


Fire in the Soul

by princelogical



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Evil Deceit, Gen, Healers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Sexual Content, M/M, Past Abuse, Shapeshifting, Souls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Logan has a shiny new job, his website is starting to kick off, he feels like he finally might be able to pay Virgil and Patton back for all they’ve done for him, and his life is honestly on a decent path right now. He’s getting better.Stupid soul-eating snakes, healers, and gorgeous shapeshifters have to, as Virgil would put it, “fuck it all up.”





	1. I. RAIN

The sun was just beginning to tuck itself away behind the thick clouds as Logan listened to his brother, Virgil, rambling frantically on the other end of the phone. Even though the parking lot was nearly empty, Logan still couldn’t manage to find his car or remember where he had parked. He bit back a sigh and glanced across the lot in hopes of spotting it but to no avail.

“-and I’m pretty sure Nate’s gonna kick my ass for forgetting his CD and then my professor’s gonna give me an F because my paper was complete garbage-”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Take a deep breath.”

“Dude. Don’t… don’t do that.”

“I am merely trying to assist you.” Logan’s eyes lit up as he finally spotted his little green station wagon parked between the fire hydrant and light pole.

“Don’t try to assist, just listen to me,” Virgil said, a hint of a snarl in his tone. Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Nate is not going to, as you say, ‘kick your ass,’ over something as mundane as forgetting his CD and your professor will not give you an F on that paper because it is B-worthy, at the very least.”

There was silence on the other end for a long moment, enough time for Logan to unlock his car and slid into the driver’s seat. Finally, Virgil spoke up once again and said, “Thanks, Lo. Sorry for yelling.”

“Your apology is accepted.”

Virgil chuckled. “So how’s my lil’ bro doing at his new job? And how’s the Photo & Suit website going?”

Logan smiled, pulling the camera from around his neck and setting it onto the passenger seat beside him. “I am doing well. My boss is a little strict but he is reasonable enough. The website is doing well. I am actually heading downtown to work on a commission piece for a couple.”

“That’s great, Lo. I knew your website’d kick off.”

“There was no way you knew, Virgil. That is ridiculous-”

“Shhh, shhh. Don’t ruin this. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Logan slid his key into the ignition and took a breath. “And… I never properly thanked you for the money you transferred to my account. I know… I understand it is a risk, to support me, and I promise to pay you back-”

“Logan. Stop quoting your mom,” Virgil said softly. “It is never a risk to support you.”

Logan took another deep breath. “Regardless, thank you. I do not know what I would do without you and Patton’s support.”

“You’d be fine because you’re strong as hell, Logan.”

“How can you determine the strength of hell?”

“Shut up. Let me live. I’m gonna let you go, but please try to call dad tonight. He’s a little worried about you living all on your own now.”

“I will call him after I get off the phone with you.”

“All right.”

“How are your classes going?” Logan asked.

“Don’t even ask.”

“Apologies.”

Virgil laughed. “I’m kidding. They’re not too terrible. Just stressful.”

“I am sorry to hear that. I am willing to help you in any way that I can.”

“Thanks. I gotta go but I’ll text you tonight when I get off work.”

“Satisfactory. I will speak with you later, Virgil.”

“Catch ya later, man. Love you.”

Logan swallowed. “Thank you.”

Virgil didn’t miss a beat. “Bye. Good luck with your commission.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

Logan hung up and smiled. He never regretted talking to Virgil. Then, he pulled up the contact right under Virgil’s- Patton. Logan took a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the “Dial Number,” button. It should not have made him so nervous to contact Patton but for whatever reason, it always did. It always had.

Patton had fostered Logan at thirteen years old, eventually adopting him. And Patton was one of the kindest people Logan had met in his entire life. He always had a joke on his lips- always was willing to bend over backwards to help Logan out with whatever. He let Logan sit at the table with him and Virgil during dinner and he never yelled- rarely even raised his voice. It was the polar opposite of the home Logan had grown up in and learned to get used to. Patton was, objectively, one of the best people in the entire world.

And while he grew to eventually get used to the safety of Patton’s home, Patton still made him nervous. Patton was sensitive and kind and wonderful. And Logan… Well, he didn’t really deserve that, did he? Because he was Logan and Logan… Logan could be… Logan could be-

_“You can be such a goddamn handful sometimes.”_

“Stop quoting your mom,” Logan whispered to himself, echoing Virgil’s words. He pressed down on Patton’s contact and pressed it against his ear, closing his eyes as he listened to the call beginning to connect.

“Heya kiddo! Oh gosh, I didn’t expect you to call so soon. I’m making cupcakes. Lemme… Shoot. Let me get these things outta the oven so they don’t burn and then we can chat, how about it, Lo?”

Logan couldn’t even attempt to smother the smile rising on his lips. “Sure.”

“Cool. Hang on.” Logan heard the phone drop then someone shuffling around. Then, Patton was back on the line. “Okay. Now I’m all ears!”

Logan chuckled. “How are you doing, Patton?”

“I’m doing great! Baking up a storm today for the event going on tomorrow. You should come to visit so I can give you some of the extras.”

“I’m afraid I cannot come up this weekend. I have a lot of commissions and I am scheduled for both Saturday and Sunday.”

“Oh dear. But that’s okay.” The disappointment in Patton’s tone didn’t go unnoticed.

Logan felt filthy guilt swimming in his stomach and he attempted to swallow it down. “I can attempt to come down anyway. I will just have to call off and-”

“No no no, kiddo,” Patton said fanatically. “Sure, I’m sad I won’t get to see you but heck, there’s always other weekends.”

Logan let out a soft breath of relief. “Okay.”

“How’s the new job?”

“It is nice. I enjoy it well enough.”

“That’s good.” Logan could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Are they treating you good?”

“They are not treating me badly, so there is that.”

Patton chuckled. “Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything, Lo.”

Logan finally twisted the key to the ignition as, out of the blue, rain began sprinkling down from the skies. “Thank you. I actually have to go work on my first commission so-”

“Oh, am I keeping you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well, you’ll have to send me the pictures when you’re done.”

“I will,” Logan said.

“Well, I’ll let you go. But don’t be a stranger! Call me anytime.”

“Do not worry, Patton. I will.”

“All right, kiddo. I love you.”

Logan swallowed. “Uhm. Thank you.”

Like Virgil, Patton didn’t miss a beat. “Bye!”

“Goodbye.”

With that, Logan closed the call and set his phone aside and began driving. The rain continued to sprinkle lightly, the sun staying place in the sky. Eventually, it began to rain harder, the clouds beginning to block the sun.

Logan found himself slowing down as the rain began to pour harder, obstructing his vision too much to continue driving. Finally, with a tired sigh, Logan pulled off into a gas station parking lot. He sent a text to his client then slid his phone into his pocket and reached for his umbrella under the passenger seat. Mentally preparing himself, he threw open his car door and opened his umbrella, adjusting it over his head.

It didn’t do much good, for the wind was so strong that it just flung the rain into Logan as he began making his way to the inside of the gas station. The doors and wind worked together to try to keep Logan from going inside, but eventually, he was able to yank the door open and stumble inside of the little building. The door shut behind him, barely muffling the pounding rain.

The first thing Logan noticed was that it was very bright and there were a _lot_ of refrigerators packed full of orange soda and only orange soda. Logan shut his umbrella, shaking it out on the rug, then carefully adjusted his tie and walked the rest of the way inside.

Now that Logan had gotten a better looked, he realised that there wasn’t just a lot of orange soda in the refrigerators- it was all that was there. There were liters, two liters, gallons, little cans, big cans- but all the same, it was all soda.

Logan sighed. He really was not in the mood for a soda, let alone orange soda, but it was caffeinated and all there was to distract himself from the rain for a while. So he grabbed one of the smaller cans and made his way to the register. He frowned at the little displays by the counter- there were M&Ms, little energy drink shots, and different brands of gum, but everything was flavoured orange. Something about it made Logan’s stomach turn.

“Hello, sir?” Logan jerked to attention as a man made his way from the back, dazzlingly bright smile on his face and a little name tag on his chest that read, “Thomas.”

“Hello,” Logan said.

“Really coming down out there, isn’t it?” Thomas asked, tapping a pin into the register.

“It is. I had to pull over because it was too dangerous to be driving.”

“Smart,” Thomas noted. “Is this all?” He gestured to the can of orange soda.

Logan nodded. “Uhm. I do hope it is not rude to ask but… do you sell anything that is not orange flavoured?”

Thomas laughed. “Roman overstocked, I think. Unfortunately, we don’t have anything else at the moment.”

Logan nodded, not entirely convinced by the vague explanation. “That is all right.”

“Cash or credit?”

“I have cash,” Logan said, pulling out his wallet. “Apologies. I will have it in a moment.”

“No worries,” Thomas said.

The door to the store swung open, setting off a tiny little bell as Logan continued digging through his wallet. He felt embarrassment wedging its way into his chest when he could not find the twenty he had filed away to use later.

“Sir now is not a good time,” Logan heard Thomas say, speaking to the other customer. The way he said it was cold and unfriendly- not at all like he had spoken to Logan. It made Logan pause, slowly lowering his wallet.

A cold chuckle sounded behind him and then the person moved to stand beside Logan. His entire presence was so cold that Logan unconsciously took a step to the side. The stranger wore a black cloak with yellow threading and an ugly bowler hat balanced on his head. He was grinning, lips curled into a mix of disgust and mild amusement.

“When is a good time, Tommy?” the guy asked. His voice was as smooth as syrup. It made Logan’s blood run cold.

“Look, not in front of a human,” Thomas hissed.

Logan felt chills go through his body at the words. “I think I might pass on the drink for now,” he said, stepping back. “Apologies. I-”

“Oh no, don’t leave on my account,” the guy said, smirking. If Logan were a less logical man, he would have said that he saw a quick glint of gold in the man’s eyes that flashed away just as quickly as it appeared.

“No, sir, I just cannot find my money.”

“I’ll pay for it,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket. Thomas was still glaring at the guy like he was the scum of the earth.

“I appreciate that but you do not have to do-”

“Shh, it’s no big deal.” The guy handed Thomas a crisp five-dollar bill, which Thomas accepted, glare not dropping as he counted out change for the bill. Logan slowly reached for the soda then attempted a polite smile towards the guy.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No big deal,” the man practically purred. “Enjoy.”

“Uhm. Thank you.” Logan began walking towards the exit. He pushed on the door.

It didn’t budge.

The guy was laughing and Logan heard Thomas hissing out threats that Logan could barely hear over the laughter. He pushed and pulled and kicked at the door but it did not budge. Logan felt his heart hammering rapidly in his throat and tears beginning to prick at his eyes. He wondered if this was how Virgil felt every day- like something dreadful was about to happen at any second.

“Poor, poor, stupid human. Thomas lured you in here just for me.”

“I did no such thing,” Thomas snapped.

An embarrassing whine slid from Logan’s lips and he jerked at the door one last time.

“Sir. Just. Allow me to go to my car. Please.”

“But it’s raining so hard out there.” The man pouted. “You wouldn’t wanna be out there.”

“I- I will be fine.”

The man smiled and Logan took a step back as he noticed fangs in the man’s mouth and scales beginning to form around his eyes.

“Deceit,” Thomas snarled. “Leave him be. This is my store. You know the rules.”

“But I’m so hungry,” Deceit said. “Lemme have one bite.”

“Leave him alone.”

Deceit stepped closer so he was right in front of Logan. Logan jerked once more at the door, hoping that, by some miracle, it would work this time. It didn’t budge.

Onto plan B instead.

With as much courage as Logan could muster, he flung the can of soda and it hit Deceit right in the nose. He hissed angrily and Logan bolted across the tiny store behind an aisle holding stacks upon stacks of range doughnuts. He heard Deceit hissing angrily and running across the store to where Logan was.

Logan leaned back then rammed his entire body into the aisle. It came clattering down and Deceit let out a loud shout of pain and surprise. Logan sprinted across the store, looking around desperately for something to use as a weapon. Thomas, from across the store was fumbling at the key to the cigarette case.

Logan snatched up a glass bottle of orange soda and when Deceit came running at him again, he flung it forward, the bottle hitting the man in the chest and then shattering against the floor. Deceit scowled angrily and walked forward as it unbothered. Logan prepared another bottle.

“Stop running, stupid human. I’ll make it quick if you give up but if you don’t, your death will be slow and painful.”

Logan flung the bottle and ran, snatching up a can on the way. Deceit was close behind him- Logan could hear the footsteps and heavy breathing until a hand came down on his shoulder, nails ripping into the flesh, and Logan let out a scream. He was jerked to the floor and Deceit stood over him. A foot came down and smashed into Logan’s ribs and Logan let out a desperate wheeze along with a whimper.

Deceit leaned down so he was entirely on top of Logan, face split into a wide smile. His eyes were glowing a bright golden colour the entirety of the skin around his eyes was covered in green scales. His nails dug into Logan’s neck and Logan struggled and squirmed to no avail.

“Shouldn’t have struggled so much,” Deceit said. Then, he scooted down and removed one hand from Logan’s neck. His hand curled and then rested on Logan’s rapidly rising and falling chest. The hand clenched around Logan’s chest, right above his heart. Logan screamed out as he felt the nails tearing into his flesh and pawing away at the tissue. He squirmed and cried out as the hand began to dig into his chest. Logan was sure he was dying.

He felt something leaving him- maybe his breath or all of his blood. All he knew was that he began feeling empty and hazy like the world was tearing itself away from Logan or Logan was being torn away from the world. He could only see Deceit, grinning down at him, and he only felt pain, spreading from his chest to his shoulders to his limbs to his head. His eyes were fluttering closed, reality becoming less distinguishable.

Then, there was a loud stomp and the sound of someone shouting. Logan blinked wearily and saw Deceit thrown against the floor, a few feet away. Thomas stood above him clutching a dagger which he immediately dropped. He fell to his knees, scooting closer to Logan.

“Hey, hey. Sh. You’re okay.” Logan realised he was shaking and jerking away from Thomas. He forced his body to still as much as possible. Thomas smiled. “Roman’s on his way. You’re gonna be fine.”

Thomas laid his hand over Logan’s chest and Logan yelped loudly at the sensation. He felt something cold lay across his chest and then knitting the flesh back together. He didn’t dare look. He focused on the dizzying relief of the pain seeping out of his body and being replaced by exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” Thomas said. “Sleep. Everything will be fine.” There was something in Thomas’ tone that Logan felt like he could trust. Faintly, he heard the sound of the tiny bell going off once again and then someone was talking in a low murmur.

Logan tried to keep his eyes open but everything was blurry and unfocused. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of roaring in his ears. He felt someone laying their hand over his chest and then someone was shouting; a sound like someone was drawing a sword sounded through the area. Someone was screaming.

Logan tried- he really tried to fight it. But he felt his eye grow heavy and the fight seeped out of him as his body fell into the lull of unconsciousness. 


	2. II. THUNDER

In Logan’s opinion, the worst part of waking up after you’ve been attacked by some strange creature that should have been mythical is the confusion. Logan’s entire mind felt fuzzy; his head pounded angrily, making his vision split. There was a hollow ache in his chest and a cramp in his left arm, which, as he became more of aware of himself, he discovered it was due to his left wrist dangling inside of a handcuff. Logan gave a weak experimental tug at it, only to discover it was loosely attached to the orange lottery ticket holder above him.

“He’s awake,” he heard someone shout in a slightly familiar voice.

Logan’s head lolled around as he tried to blink his headache away so that he could focus more. Before he could, someone’s face and chest were obstructing his vision, warm hands cupping the sides of his face. Logan, despite the shooting pain it brought, wrenched his head away as the person made low shushing noises, grabbing him once again.

When Logan finally gave in and held still, he could clearly see the man in front of him and just how attractive he was. His brown hair was pushed to the left side showing off his brown- almost golden eyes. His jaw was smooth and perfectly cut, lips pulled back in a smile that would have taken Logan’s breath away, had he not already been breathless from the panic he was working himself into.

“Thomas, you might want to check his ribs. He’s breathing funny.”

Logan wanted to roll his eyes. “What is happening?” he asked, tongue heavy as the words were pushed out. “What time is it?”

“Nothing to worry about. And it’s about three something.” The guy gave another smile and patted Logan’s head. Logan jerked against, pulling back his lips in a scowl.

“Do not touch me. I do not like to be touched.”

“Alrighty then,” the guy said, sitting back. Logan watched him suspiciously, only taking his eyes away when he watched Thomas walk over, eyebrows knitted together in a frown of concern.

“I’m gonna check your ribs,” Thomas said. “Roman here thinks I might not have healed them all the way.”

Thomas reached forward and Logan flinched back, eyeing him warily. Thomas raised his hands and gave a pained smile.

“What’s your name?”

Logan hesitated, then answered, “Logan.”

“Okay. You’re okay, Logan. I just wanna check your ribs.”

The other guy, apparently Roman, huffed. “He’s feisty. I’d be careful.”

“Leave him be, Princey. He’s just scared. Besides, who are you to call anyone feisty?”

Roman let out a laugh and then Thomas reached down to Logan once again. This time, Logan allowed him to reach forward and pull up his shirt, exposing his stomach and chest. Logan peeked down, nervously glancing from Thomas’ hand to his exposed skin. It was bruised all around his ribs and his chest had a collection of several purple scars that mangled where there once was clear skin.

Logan could barely breathe upon the sight. Thomas just sucked in a nervous breath and Logan eyed him warily as he laid his spread hand over the ribs. Thomas’ hand began to glow and Logan felt his body going cold. He shivered and then Thomas released his hand. Logan let out a breath of relief as a majority of his pain vanished.

“Feel better?” Thomas asked. Logan managed a small nod. Thomas nodded back, looking satisfied.

“How did you do that?” Logan asked. Roman let out a loud laugh and Thomas gave a warning glare. Logan copied the action, sending another glare Roman’s way.

“I’m a healer,” Thomas explained patiently.

“A… Like a doctor?”

“Similar, sure. But not exactly.”

“More magical,” Roman spoke up with a wink.

“Magical,” Logan repeated. He gave another tug at the handcuff holding his left wrist captive and then looked back up at the two. “What is this for?”

“We wanted to make sure you didn’t run off,” Roman said, crossing his arms. “You were hurt pretty bad and we don’t need you running off because of Deceit’s influence and making things worse.”

“I would not make things worse,” Logan snarled.  

“We know,” Thomas said soothingly. “But Deceit really did a number on you and we have to make sure, you know, you don’t get hurt any worse. And Deceit…” Thomas shifted his eyes and Logan frowned, confused. “Well. He just hurt you pretty bad, huh?”

Logan glanced away as he remembered the events. The way Deceit’s nails ripped at his flesh, hands shoved inside of his chest. He remembered his glowing eyes and the skin surrounded by scales. He remembered barely breathing, feeling the life being ripped from his body-

Logan took a deep breath, trying to push those memories down.

“This is not real,” Logan said finally. “it is merely a… dream.”

“Oh God. He’s one of those,” Roman grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Logan clenched his teeth. “One of what?”

“One who doesn’t believe what’s right in front of him because he’s such a skeptical ass he-”

“Roman, stop. He’s just scared.”

“I am not scared,” Logan snapped. Thomas shut his mouth with a troubled frown.

“Okay,” Thomas said finally. “Okay. But this is real, I promise.”

Logan laid his head back against the back of the counter, trying to remember how to breathe normally. Roman was glaring down at him, Thomas eyeing him with that agitating look of concern that Patton used to get on Virgil or Logan’s particularly bad days.  

“What was that thing?” Logan asked. “That… you called him Deceit. The one who attacked me.”

“They’re called soul-snakes,” Roman said. “Really evil, really cruel things. They’re shape-shifters who feed off of human souls.”

“They do not sound pleasant,” Logan said with a shudder.

“Understatement of the century, my friend,” Roman said, a hint of a smile on his face. “Deceit’s one who’s been around for a long time. Usually, he leaves us alone but sometimes he gets antsy. Lures people to here, to us, so he can snatch them away and take their souls right in front of us. Just to taunt us. You’re lucky Thomas was able to drive him off until I got here.”

“I remember… you stabbed him,” Logan said slowly, glancing at Thomas, trying to fit the pieces of his fuzzy memory together. Thomas looked uncomfortable.

“Sort of,” he said. “Roman has a dagger hidden here to use in case of emergency. It’s made with dragon’s bone and soaked in healer’s magic, which is repulsive to soul-snakes. It can’t kill Deceit, but it can hurt him bad enough to keep him away for a little while. At least gave me enough time to heal you while Roman got here.”

“What happened to him, then?” Logan said. “Deceit, I mean.”

“Ran off before I could get here,” Roman said with a scowl. “He probably didn’t want to risk taking on me injured. And I bet he figures, just ‘cause he’s marked your soul that he-” Roman finally stopped his rant, seeming to notice the ashen look on Logan’s face. “Oh, man- it’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise.”

“What do you mean by ‘having marked my soul’? What do you _mean_ by that?”

Thomas took a long sigh. “Roman’s just being dramatic.”

Logan looked between the two who were suddenly uninterested in meeting his eyes. Finally, Roman said, “Don’t let it trouble you too much. It’s just…”

Thomas spoke up in place of Roman’s fumbling, “Since Deceit did not kill you, he still marked your soul. It means that Deceit and your soul are now… connected-”

“Connected?” Logan asked in alarm.

“It just means that your soul is going to naturally try to seek out Deceit,” Thomas hurried to explain. “Because marking it is like…”

“Claiming ownership of it, in a way,” Roman cut in.

“That does not sound ideal,” Logan said, desperate to mask the panic swimming through his entire body.

“It’s not,” Thomas admitted. “Which is why, you know…” Thomas gestured to Logan’s arm, “handcuff and all. Your soul’s desire is going to want to seek out Deceit at this point, so we needed to make sure you didn’t go running off where he could get you while you’re in a weakened state. He might be weak right now, but even at a weaker state, he can take on a human easily. Especially an injured one that he has a connection to.”

“Could you get rid of this then?” Logan asked, giving the cuff a little tug. “Now that I am aware of what is going on?” Roman and Thomas shot each other a look.

“Promise not to freak out and try to run off?” Roman asked.

Logan levelled him with a glare. “Yes.”

“Just wanna make sure,” Roman said. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a little key then crouched down to Logan’s level. Now that Logan’s head wasn’t pounding, he could focus more on the body leaning over him, fumbling with the cuffs. Roman smelled like tangerines so strongly that it was almost dizzying. But it wasn’t quite unpleasant either.

Finally, the cuffs dropped to the floor and Logan’s arm fell down with them, into his lap. He grabbed his left wrist with his other hand, rubbing at the red streaks that had formed from jerking against the restraint. Thomas watched on looking mildly guilty. Roman looked unbothered.

“You need to get somewhere safe,” Thomas said. “Somewhere Deceit doesn’t know about, where I can try to remove the mark on your soul in the meantime. Deceit doesn’t like to lose. He’ll be coming after you and so long as your soul is marked, he can try to draw you to him without you even realising it.”

“What is the rate of survival?” Logan asked.

Roman frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“When Deceit has attacked someone- what are their chances of surviving after he has put a mark on their soul?”

The two exchanged another look that Logan was beginning to grow sick and tired of. Roman let out a dramatic sigh and then said slowly, “To tell you the truth… No one has survived before.”

Logan leaned back against the counter closing his eyes and tried to draw in a deep breath. Of course. How wonderful. Just his luck. The statistics and numbers were against him. Just when things were finally starting to feel okay- just when his life didn’t feel like something held together with thin rubber bands.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, dude, but- it’s gonna be okay,” Thomas said.

“Do not lie to me,” Logan said, eyes fluttering open.

“I’m not,” Thomas said defensively. “We’re gonna do our best to keep you safe, okay? Now… Do you have anywhere to go? Somewhere safe where you can try to lay low for a while.”

“My apartment,” Logan said.

Roman shook his head. “That’s no good. It’s too close and too obvious. Unless you don’t live around here.”

“I live a couple miles away.”

“Yeah. Too close. Deceit will be looking for anything nearby. Any houses, apartments, schools-”

“Do you have anywhere else?” Thomas asked. “Friends? Maybe any family who lives farther away?”

Logan stifled a groan of exasperation. “My brother,” he said quietly. “He lives almost five hours away.”

“That’s great! Works perfectly,” Roman said.

Logan grit his teeth. “He is not going to like any of this. He will panic. He always panics.”

“And that’s understandable. But we can’t just sit here like…” Thomas trailed off.

“Like sitting ducks!” Roman finished.

“All right. I will call him from the car.” Logan moved to push himself upright. A wave of dizziness hit him that sent him leaning backwards, splaying a hand over his throbbing head. The world spun in sickening circles that had Logan almost dropping back against the back of the counter, only sheer will alone keeping that from happening.  

“Dizziness, nausea, and chills are normal side effects from the healing,” Thomas said softly, crouching down and laying a hand on Logan’s arm. “I’ll get you something to eat and a drink.”

With that, Thomas walked over to the refrigerators and began fumbling inside of one of them. Roman offered out a hand which Logan accepted, dragging himself up and blushing when he stumbled and Roman’s arm circled his waist.

“Steady,” Roman said.

“I am not a horse,” Logan snapped.

Roman snorted. “All right there, Sir-Nerd-A-Lot.”

Logan frowned. “Sir-Nerd-A-Lot?”

Roman gestured to his eyes with a smirk. “It’s just the glasses, dude. And the necktie. And dress shoes.”

Thankfully, before Logan could start fighting with Roman, Thomas was walking over holding a bottle of some orange-coloured juice and a puffed orange pastry inside of a wax paper bag. Logan took the items with a quiet, “Thank you.” He pulled himself away from Roman, determined to his core to stand on his own. He settled on leaning against the counter and fumbling with the bag to get out the pastry.

“Why _is_ everything orange?” Logan asked, biting into the food. His eyebrows raised; it tasted like Patton’s orange crème cupcakes. The thought brought a thickness to his throat that he couldn’t explain and he had to force the bite down.

“Roman likes orange,” Thomas explained as if that was helpful in the slightest.

The three stood around, almost silently, while Logan finished the items Thomas had given him. Then, he walked across the floor, on much sturdier feet than earlier, and deposited the wrappers and empty bottle into the trash.

“Are you okay to drive?” Thomas asked, looking quite anxious. “I’ve only driven a few times but if you’re not feeling good enough to drive, I can try. Or Roman can. But that…” Thomas laughed quietly. “It might not be the best idea.”

“Hey!” Roman said, a hand hitting his chest in mock-offense. “That incident was a one-time thing.”

“You were going one hundred and twenty in a sixty!”

“It was _once_!”

“I will be fine,” Logan said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I will be able to drive.”

“Okay. You head to your car. Roman and I need to get some stuff first.” Thomas shot Roman a loaded look that Logan couldn’t read but he knew for a fact Thomas wanted a moment of privacy with Roman. While it made him uneasy, he figured it was something that was not worth fighting on.

Logan nodded in response and made his way out the door, breathing in relief at the fresh air. The rain was still coming down in a little sprinkle and thunder rumbled softly in the distance. After a few moments of standing, letting the rain and night air hit his skin, Logan briskly made his way to his car.

Once safely in his car, Logan let out another long sigh of relief. There was something about his little car, the camera still sitting in the passenger seat, that was soothing to him. There was normalcy. No monsters, no healers, or weird shape-shifting men. Logan winced as a small stab of pain shot through his chest. He massaged it with his hand, taking deep breaths. It was likely just anxiety. He knew all too well from Virgil that anxiety could sometimes exhibit itself in stabbing pains in the chest.

Still yet, the feeling filled him with even more unease.

A few moments later, someone knocked on the back window, making Logan immediately drop his hand into his lap. He unlocked the back doors and Thomas and Roman stumbled in.

“I brought you another orange soda,” Thomas said cheerfully, handing forward a smaller can.

“Thank you,” Logan said, accepting the can. He set it aside in his cup holder and started the car while Thomas and Roman slid inside the car, buckling in.

“I have a question,” Logan said.

“Yes?” Roman asked.

“Why have you not merely… killed Deceit yet?”

At first, Roman and Thomas were both silent. “Oh trust me,” Roman said darkly, “I have tried. But… things… happened.”

“What sort of things?”

Roman opened his mouth to speak but Thomas spoke up before he could do so. “Things that can be explained sometime later. You should call your brother, Logan. Let him know you’re coming up.”

Logan figured the topic was closed so he simply nodded in response; he then pulled out his phone and dialed Virgil’s number. It rang four times before Virgil answered saying, “Hey.”

“Hey, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice sounded hesitant and nervous, “it’s three in the morning, dude.”

“I understand that,” Logan said, “and I apologise if I woke you.”

“You know me. You didn’t. What’s up? What’s wrong?”

“I- I’m in a little bit of trouble.”

“Shit,” Virgil said, voice rising in pitch. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t really explain. I just… I have to show you. Would it be all right if I drove up to your apartment tonight?”

“Logan, it is three in the fucking morning and you live four hours away.”

“Five.”

“What?”

“It is… it is more like five hours.”

“Five! That’s even worse.”

“I know and I apologise but I- I need someone and somewhere to stay for now. I promise to explain when I get there.”

Quiet. Then, “Logan. What’s going on?”

“I cannot tell you over the phone; you will not believe me.”

Virgil let out a long sigh that had Logan’s stomach swimming with nerves. “You’re scaring me, dude. You’re really scaring me.”

“I am sorry.”

“Are you doing okay? Taking your meds?”

Logan clenched the phone just a little harder than needed. “I am. I need my brother right now, Virgil, please.”

More silence.

“Virgil?”

“I’m just thinking, Logan. Let me think.” Then, “Okay. I’m gonna try to sleep until you get here. Call me when you’re a half hour away.”

“I will. And Virgil?”

“Hm?”

Logan swallowed, glancing into his rearview mirror at Thomas and Roman who watched him expectably. He took a deep breath.

“Do not tell Patton.”

Quiet. Then, “Logan.”

“Please, Virgil. Patton will worry and I cannot- I do not want him to know.”

“Fine. I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Logan said. “Seriously.”

“But you seriously better have a damn good explanation for this when you get here,” Virgil said grumpily.

“I do,” Logan said, stealing one last glance at Thomas and Roman in the back then beginning to pull out of the parking lot. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a lot of exposition and me very shakily attempting some world-building. I’ve creatively named Deceit’s species “soul-snakes” because… naming things is hard, fam. I wish I could draw though, because in my head, they’re some badass creatures. We’ll learn more about them later. I think. I lowkey feel like I’m winging this as I go a little bit too much. Agh. Anywho. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is always much appreciated.


	3. III. HOME

By the time that Logan had pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, his eyes were barely held open and his entire body was cramped and tired. Thomas and Roman got out of the car, arguing about something Logan couldn’t quite hear over the loud ringing in his ears. He shut off the ignition, stuffed the key in his pocket, grabbed his camera and put it around his neck, then got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He sent a text to his client, apologising profusely, then squinted up at the sky.

It wasn’t raining anymore but the sun was yet to peek itself out from behind the heavy and dark clouds. The wind whipped around, chilling Logan as he crossed his arms around himself, hoping for some warmth but to no avail.

“Virgil lives on the third floor,” Logan said, already taking the lead, Thomas and Roman hurrying to follow him. “He is likely going to be upset that I brought people without telling him but…” Logan trailed off. “I will figure it out,” he muttered.

With more difficulty than it should have been, Logan had gotten Thomas and Roman upstairs in front of Virgil’s room where they all stood anxiously, waiting for Virgil to open the door. Finally, he did and he looked downright awful.

His dark brown and purple hair was a ruffled mess and his hoodie was crinkled. His eyes were rimmed with red and his under eye begs were even more prominent than usual. Roman muttered something about, “Dude looks awful,” to which Thomas stomped on his toe for.

Before Logan could utter a word of explanation or concern, Virgil flung himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan. He was practically vibrating against Logan and Logan ran his hands over Virgil’s tense back then moved to pat the back of his head as gently as possible.

“You scared the hell out of me, Logan, and you look terrible.”

“You do not look any better,” Logan teased lightly.

Virgil pulled away with a smirk and punched Logan’s shoulder. “At least I’ve slept. You look like you haven’t slept in years and-” Virgil’s eyes widened. “Your wrist is bruised,” he said anxiously, grabbing at the wrist that had been trapped in the cuffs, pulling it up to his eye-level.

Logan pulled it away as gently as possible. “It is nothing, merely-”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing company,” Virgil said, eyeing Thomas and Roman suspiciously. Then, his eyes widened once again. “Did they do this?” Suddenly, Logan was being pushed out of the way and Virgil was jumping forward, finger in Roman’s face then in Thomas’.

“Did you guys do this?” he snapped.

Roman scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of-”

Thomas cut in before Roman could dig himself a hole by getting in a fight with Virgil. “You’re upset right now and that’s okay. But look- we mean your brother no harm.”

Virgil lowered his finger, still glaring at the both of them. “What happened to your wrist?” he asked again, glancing back at Logan.

“It is… a long story,” Logan said.

“I have time.”

“We should go into your apartment first,” Thomas suggested. “We don’t want anyone listening in.”

Virgil looked ready to argue before he finally nodded and stepped back into the doorway, gesturing for everyone to come inside. They followed him in.

Virgil’s apartment looked just as Logan remembered it from last time. The spider curtains still hung from the windows. Several of Patton’s (objectively… not very good), paintings hung from the walls along with band art that Logan remembered Virgil commissioning from artists a few years back. The lights were a little dim, giving off a slight creepy vibe, especially as they made the spider curtains look almost as if they were glowing.

Virgil shut the door behind them and locked it. Then, he crossed his arms and looked to Logan, eyebrows raised.

“Gonna introduce me?” Virgil asked.

“Oh. Uhm. Apologies. This is Thomas,” Thomas raised his hand in a casual wave and smiled, “and this is Roman.” Virgil curled his lip at Roman and Roman simply smiled in return with a mock bow.

“They your friends?” Virgil asked.

“We met last night,” Logan said.

Virgil’s eyes blew wide. “What?”

“It’s true,” Roman said, still smiling.

“I’m not talking to you!” Virgil snapped. “Why would you bring two complete strangers with you to my apartment? It’s not in your MO, dude.”

Logan shifted his feet. “As I said… It is a long story.”

“One I am yet to hear.”

Logan coughed. “Ah. Yes. Uhm. We might want to sit down.”

“And get some drinks first,” Roman added.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I have coffee. I have water. What do you want?”

“Coffee,” Logan said immediately. Virgil’s lips quirked in a smile and Logan attempted to smile back.

“I’ll take a water, please,” Thomas said.

“Do you happen to have any orange soda?” Roman asked.

“Fresh out, I’m afraid,” Virgil said, jaw tight and teeth gritted.

Roman shrugged, sighing dramatically in disappointment. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for water then.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sit down. I’ll grab drinks.”

“I can assist you,” Logan offered.

Virgil looked him up and down then nodded, spinning around to his little kitchen. Logan followed. Virgil opened his fridge, grabbing out two waters. He opened a cabinet and pulled down two mugs: a NASA one and a Disneyland one. Logan accepted the NASA one with a grateful nod then began pouring coffee from the coffee pot into his cup.

“Your creamer is where it always is,” Virgil said.                                    

“Thank you,” Logan said, opening the little breadbox on the counter and pulling out the little bottle of powdered vanilla creamer and teaspoon in a baggie. He scooped out a few spoonfuls, mixed it in his coffee, then put everything away again. When he finished, he noticed Virgil was staring at him.

“Is it another psychotic break?” Virgil asked, pouring his own cup of coffee and grabbing for his liquid creamer. “Because I can deal with that. I really can. We’ve done it before. It’ll be hard on dad but. But it’ll be okay.” He scrubbed at his eyes which were leaking tears again.

Logan swallowed. “It is not a psychotic break, Virgil. I swear.”

Virgil sniffled and let out a watery laugh. “Then what’s going on? You look… like you haven’t slept and you’re losing weight and your fucking… wrists are bruised.” He slammed down the creamer, splashing it on the counter. “What am I supposed to think?”

“It isn’t what you think. I know it looks bad but- I am sorry, Virgil. I-”

“Don’t apologise; don’t you dare.” Virgil rubbed at his eyes, taking in a long breath and laying his hand over his chest. Logan allowed him to collect himself then speak up again as he moved to put away the creamer. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“It is all right; you did not mean any harm by it.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Still, it was a shitty thing to do and I did it anyway. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go so I can hear this big reveal.”

Logan smiled at the weak attempted humour. Virgil grabbed the water bottles and his coffee and headed back to the living room where Thomas and Roman sat on the couch, murmuring quietly to each other. They shut up when they caught sight of the two and leaned back. Virgil tossed one of the water bottles at Roman who scrambled to catch it, smacking his elbow on the coffee table; he merely handed the other one over to Thomas who accepted it with a note of gratitude.

Logan settled down at the end of the couch and Virgil sat down in his old over-stuffed black recliner. He curled his knees to his chest and sipped at his coffee, eyeing the occupants on the couch. He looked quite like an angry raccoon, in Logan’s opinion.

“All right. Go for it,” Virgil said.

They did. Logan explained everything from pulling into the gas station to get out of the rain to when Deceit attacked. Thomas and Roman cut in every once in a while with their perspectives and to clarify areas where Logan was fuzzier on. Virgil didn’t interrupt throughout the entire duration of the story, just fixed his dark brown eyes on Logan and drank his coffee.

By the time Logan finished, the exhaustion was hitting him even harder and the room was spinning around him. He forced himself to drink down a sip of his coffee then looked expectantly at Virgil who was still staring, face impassive.

Finally, “Do you think this is funny, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes blew wide. “Virgil, I am not trying to be-”

Virgil grit his teeth, looking angry. “Stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life. You’re… trying to pull me into some stupid delusion and I’m not having it.”

Logan flinched and Roman spoke up before he could get a word in. “It’s not a delusion; it’s real and I can prove it to you.”

Virgil set down his coffee mug, crossing his arms, then leaned back with his eyebrows raised. “All right. Go for it.”

Roman stood up; to the untrained eye, Virgil looked calm. But Logan saw how he flinched back a fraction of an inch, trembling hands tightly gripping at his upper arms. His eyes were wide, exhausted and terrified.

Then, Logan, Virgil, and Thomas all watched on as Roman, right in front of their eyes, shifted into a completely different person. His eyes turned narrower, skin going paler. His nose shrank and turned upward more. His muscles dissolved into tight skin that wrapped around skinny bones. His smile changed, mouth going wider, lips thinner. His teeth, once slightly worn and a little yellowed were bright white, almost blindingly so.

Virgil jerked up, knocking his recliner backward. “Holy shit!” he shouted.

“It’s okay,” Thomas soothed.

Virgil’s eyes darted from Roman to Logan. “Holy shit,” he repeated, lower this time. “But… But… Shit.”

“Shit,” Logan repeated.

Virgil stared at him, eyes wider than Logan had ever seen him. “This this… this Deceit guy then. He really attacked you?”

Logan nodded.

“Lemme see.”

Logan sucked in a nervous breath and slowly pulled up his shirt, revealing his scarred chest where Deceit’s claws had torn it apart. Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed into a frown and he bit his lip.

“Holy shit.”

“You’ve said that,” Roman said, shifting back to his previous form. “Quite a few times, actually.”

Virgil hissed at him and Roman’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he took a step back. Thomas was merely smiling, hiding a giggle behind his hand.

“So what are you… doing here?” Virgil asked. “How am I supposed to help? I can’t help! I don’t know what to do. And shit. What if Patton- what if Deceit comes after Patton or- he’s gonna come after you and I don’t know what to do-”

“Breathe, Virgil,” Logan said lowly, laying a hand on his brother’s bicep. “It will all be okay.”

“He’s right, Virgil,” Thomas said. “You don’t need to do anything. Logan just needs a safe place to stay while I try to get the mark off his soul.”

“Is my apartment even a safe place though?” Virgil asked, biting his thumbnail. “I don’t… I don’t…”

“Your place, according to him, is the safest place he thought of,” Roman said, with a shrug.

“You do not have to worry, Virgil,” Logan said. “I… am hoping to have this fixed in no time. I will be out of your hair.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I’m worried about, dumbass.” Roman snickered and Virgil’s eyes flashed. “What’re you laughing at, Princey?”

“ _Princey_?” Roman repeated in an affronted tone. “How dare you… you… Emo Nightmare?”

Virgil scowled. Thomas cut in before their fight could continue. “I think Logan needs to get some sleep. And rest. It will help him to heal. Roman and I can… try to stay out of your hair until we’re able to leave.”

Both Logan and Virgil raised their eyebrows; it was a one-bedroom apartment with only a tiny living room and kitchen. It would be pretty difficult to stay out of anyone’s hair. Instead of commenting on it, Virgil just sighed.

“Well. I have to go to class. But you can crash on my bed, Logan. You,” he pointed at Thomas, “can have the sofa. You,” he pointed to Roman, mischievous smirk twitching at his lips, “can take the floor.”

Roman crossed his arms, pouting, but Virgil paid him no mind, grabbing his keys. He made his way to the door and gently squeezed Logan’s arm as he made his way there.

“Missed you, dude.” Guilt swam in Logan’s stomach but he forced a smile on his face to which Virgil returned, walking out the door, closing it quietly behind him. Logan locked it and turned around.

“I do not know about you two but I am going to get some sleep,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t wait for an answer; he made his way into Virgil’s bedroom. His phone buzzed in his pocket before he could even begin grabbing blankets down from the little closet.

Logan slid it out and cursed quietly when he saw it was from Patton.

**Patton (6:48 A.M.):** Hey, kiddo! wondering if you had those pics yet! ;D id love to see them!!! <3

He cursed once again when he noticed his battery was at 2%. Tiredly, he pulled down three of Virgil’s hand-knitted heavy blankets and laid them on the bed. Perhaps it was a tad bit excessive but Logan was freezing and tired and just wanted to lay down.

Movements clumsy and similar to one of a man in a drunken state, Logan opened Virgil’s bedside drawer and pulled out his spare charger. He plugged his phone in then stumbled over to the bed where he unfolded all of the blankets. He stacked them and then slid under both them and the main comforter.

Pulling the thick stack around his body, Logan’s heavy eyes shut and fell into a heavy sleep full of dreams. The first was Deceit clawing at his chest, ripping him apart in the middle of Virgil’s kitchen. Then he turned away and fixed his eyes on Virgil. He lunged.

Then it shifted; Patton and he were sitting on the couch, Patton talking quietly to him as Logan clutched his failed Algebra test in his fists, pressed tightly and protectively against his chest.

“I apologise for my failure. I… I will work harder next time.”

“Failure is normal,” Patton said, so gentle that Logan could barely believe it. “I’m so proud of you.”

“For failing?” Logan asked, aghast.

Patton laughed. “Sure. But I’m mostly proud of you for trying and working so darn hard.”

“But I _failed_.”

“So? Failure is not the end of the world.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

Logan took a deep breath, looking down to his knees.

“I will always love you, Logan. Failures and all.”

“What if I am the biggest failure on the planet?” Logan asked, voice suspiciously thick and choked.

“Then I’d still love you all the same.”

|*|

“Logan. You probably should wake up.”

Logan grumbled softly and he heard someone laugh softly then gently jostle his back. “Dude. You’ve slept for like ten hours and I know you’re tired but there’s no way you’ll get any sleep tonight if you don’t wake up.”

Logan sighed and forced himself to get up, blinking up at Virgil who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Virgil smiled down at him.

“Hungry?”

“A little,” Logan admitted, sitting up. His chest throbbed in response and Logan’s hand rose to rub at it subtly. Virgil still noticed and frowned at the movement. However, he didn’t comment on it.

“Patton’s called me several times because he hasn’t heard from you and is super worried. I lied for you and said I hadn’t heard from you since last night. But you better call him so he doesn’t have a heart attack.”

Logan almost groaned but didn’t, merely dropping his hand into his lap. He leaned over to look for his phone plugged into the outlet but Virgil handed him it before Logan got the chance.

“Call him,” Virgil said. “Or no dinner.”

“What is for dinner?” Logan asked as Virgil stood up, opening the door to the bedroom.

“Your favourite.”

“My… favourite?”

“Ramen.” Virgil smirked at him then left, closing the door behind him. Logan sighed then dialed Patton’s number, pressing the phone against his ear.

After only two rings, Patton picked up. “Hey, kiddo! I was so worried. You didn’t respond to my text or call and usually you do-”

“I apologise, Patton. I… My phone died.”

“Oh dear. Well, that’s okay! How was your photoshoot last night?”

“I had to cancel. The weather was too bad to attempt to drive up.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Patton said, sounding genuinely disappointed. “Could you reschedule?”

“I hope so,” Logan said.

“Aw, now, don’t sound so blue, Logan. It’ll be okay. How was work?”

Logan’s eyes widened and he mentally cursed himself. He had completely forgotten about his job. He took a shaky breath and tried to sound casual. “I had to call in sick.”

“Well, you’ve just had some rotten luck.”

Logan snorted. “You have no idea.”

“Do you wanna do a video call? I can show you Rex and Marley!” he said, referring to the two family dogs. Logan smiled at the mention of them. “I’m also making Crofter’s Strawberry cheesecake! Your favourite. You can watch me bake.”

Logan caught sight of himself in Virgil’s dresser mirror and winced. His under eye bags were terrible, hair a mess. His skin was slightly yellow and clothes completely rumpled. The moment Patton laid eyes on Logan. He’d freak out. He’d probably be calling the insurance to see how much could be covered for a stay at the psychiatric ward before Logan could open his mouth in greeting.

“I actually have dinner plans tonight,” Logan lied, stomach swimming with guilt self-hatred.

“Oh! That’s fantastic, Logan; with who?”

“A guy uh… Roman.”

“Roman… Roman and Logan. How cute!” Patton gushed.

“Oh no; it isn’t anything like that. He is a colleague of mine.”

“You never know,” Patton said in a sing-song tone. Logan chuckled.

“All right, Patton. Enough.”

“You have fun tonight, Lo!”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Bye-bye!”

Logan hung up, taking a deep breath and feeling emptier than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big-bro Virgil is here (finally)! Feedback is always appreciated.


	4. IV. SOULACHE

In the living room, Roman and Thomas were fighting in low voices while the microwave hummed from the kitchen. Virgil was walking around in the kitchen, earbuds stuck in his ears as he bopped his head to the music, stirring Ramen powder into one of the four blue bowls sitting on his counter. As soon as Thomas and Roman spotted Logan, they stopped talking and Thomas rose to greet Logan.

“Hey. Feeling any better?”

“Yes,” Logan lied, feeling a bit awkward under Thomas’ concerned glance and Roman’s disbelieving gaze from the couch.

“Lemme check your ribs. Make sure everything’s completely healed up now,” Thomas said. He nudged Roman with his feet, effectively kicking him off the couch. Thomas patted the spot beside him. “Lay down.”

Logan obeyed, rolling up his shirt. He peeked down as Thomas crouched down and looked over it carefully. Thomas then sent Logan a reassuring smile and pulled the shirt back down.

“It looks good. Completely healed up.”

Logan nodded his thanks and sat up, looking over at Virgil who was carrying two bowls into the living room and set them down on the coffee table.

“Come to get yours, Logan,” Virgil said, turning around and making his way back to the kitchen. Logan followed him and then Virgil turned around, arms crossed and expression mildly worried. “Did you call dad?”

“I did,” Logan said, grabbing one of the bowls sitting on the counter then reaching for a fork.

“What’d you say?”

“I told him… I was sick and had dinner plans.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “He believed you then?”

“Apparently so.” Logan’s stomach swam with guilt. “I do not like… lying to him.”

Virgil’s expression softened. “But you have to, right? You know. To keep yourself safe. To keep him safe.”

Logan nodded then made his way back into the living room, sitting down on the couch beside Roman who was wolfing down the Ramen. Thomas was still blowing on his forkful to cool it down.

“This is extravagant! Absolutely delicious,” Roman said with an unholy moan that was enough to make Virgil, Thomas, and Logan all blush. “What is this?”

“Are you being sarcastic with me?” Virgil asked with a scowl.

“I wish he was,” Thomas said with a sigh as Roman let out another groan.

“It’s uhm… Ramen,” Virgil said. “Pretty cheap stuff. Lifesaver for college students. I just add a little garlic to mine, sometimes chicken if I have it and boom- instant meal.”

“You should be proud,” Roman said, tipping back the bowl to drink the broth. Logan and Virgil’s eyes met. Virgil rolled his eyes and Logan chuckled, taking a bite of his own noodles.

They were quite good, really, but maybe that was the day-without-eating hunger that was speaking. Before Logan knew it, his bowl was empty, stomach still feeling empty. He sighed quietly, a little embarrassed and asked Virgil if he could make himself another packet. He restrained the urge to promise to pay Virgil back for it; it’d only start Virgil off on a tangent about it being a stupid Ramen packet and Logan “didn’t need to pay Virgil back for shit.” Virgil nodded and told him they were in the cabinet over the microwave. Logan rose, choosing to ignore Roman asking Virgil if he’d ever thought about adding a splash of orange juice to the Ramen for a “fruity” element.

In the kitchen, Logan rinsed out his bowl and set it down on the counter. His head throbbed suddenly, making his knees feel weak and skin clammy. Then his chest clenched and with a startled wheeze, Logan laid a fist over it, trying to take deep breaths. The kitchen spun. Logan took a few more deep breaths then collected himself enough to stand on his tiptoes to reach for the cabinet above the microwave.

“I can get it for you.”

Logan startled, whipping around to see Roman walking in casually, holding his empty bowl which he deposited in the sink. Then, with a disgusting amount of ease, he reached his hand up, swung upon the cabinet, and retrieved two packets of Ramen. Logan scowled at him which Roman mistook as Logan referring to the two packets of Ramen.

Roman shrugged. “Virgil said I could have another packet to try raw.”

Logan opened his mouth to argue then changed his mind, snapping it shut. He took the packet from Roman and began preparing it, trying to combat the dizziness as he did so. His fork scraped against the bottom of his bowl as he stirred the block of noodles into the water. The sound made him feel like he was going crazy and he was thankful for Roman to fill in the too-quiet atmosphere.

“Your brother’s apartment is cool,” Roman said casually, tearing open the packet and taking a loud bite. “I like his Nightmare Before Christmas posters.”

Logan smiled, remembering when Virgil had bought them as soon as he moved out, excitedly sending Logan a slew of pictures of them hanging above his couch. He’d joked that he should put one over the toilet in the bathroom.

“They are… interesting,” Logan admitted.

“He’s a little bristly though,” Roman said.

“He takes some getting used to,” Logan admitted, sliding his bowl into the microwave. “When I first arrived here, I was convinced that he hated me.”

Roman frowned. “You two aren’t blood related?”

Logan almost shook his head but stopped when it throbbed painfully in response. He covered it up by pretending to look towards the buttons on the microwave which were blurring together. He started up his Ramen then turned around.

“No. I was adopted.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised and then he smiled brightly. “So was Thomas.”

“Was he?” Logan asked.

“Mhm.”

“You… uhm. You were birthed then? Like… mammals?”

Roman laughed. “We didn’t _hatch_ , Logan. We’re born like humans are.”

“Ah. So you and Thomas are… brothers then?”

“Oh. Oh, no,” Roman rushed to correct. “My moms are not Thomas’ adoptive parents. Thomas was adopted by Remy when his mom died giving birth and his dad ditched him at the hospital.”

“Remy?”

“Remy,” Roman said, a look of admiration crossing his face. “He’s one of the coolest magical creatures around. He can just touch you,” Roman gestured outward and poked Logan’s shoulder, “and make you entirely complaisant. Make you fight battles for him, kill someone, take a flight to Japan- or even something as simple as making you fall asleep.”

“He sounds terrifying,” Logan admitted, his Ramen beeping behind him. He turned around and pulled it out of the microwave, opening his flavour packet.

“He is,” Roman said breathlessly. “But he’s so so cool.”

“He’s really not all that cool,” a new voice said. Thomas walked into the kitchen, followed by Virgil. They both deposited their bowls into the sink. Thomas continued. “He’s my _dad_.”

“Your super cool dad,” Roman said with an enthusiastic bite to his Ramen noodle block. Logan winced and look down to his bowl where he stirred his noodles and water and flavour packet together.

“You’re getting crumbs all over my floor, Princey,” Virgil said, apparently latching onto the nickname from earlier.

“Sorry,” Roman said. He didn’t sound very sorry at all- or, Logan didn’t think he did.

Logan was pulling another forkful of noodles to his mouth when another wave of dizziness and pain that stabbed into his chest hit. His skin broke out into goosebumps and he shuddered, bowl falling to the ground and shattering. He started to topple, only stopped by Roman’s arm jerking around his stomach in a nauseating position. Logan leaned over, vomiting over the shattered bowl. Roman held onto him, even when Logan let all of his weight fall onto the other’s arm.

“Shit,” Virgil muttered.

Logan groaned lowly as the room spun itself back into focus. Thomas was staring at the mess on the ground with a troubled frown. Virgil looked disgusted and concerned, backing away from the broken bowl, spilled food, and vomit.

“Jeez, Logan. Gross. You okay?” he asked. Logan nodded as Roman helped stabilize him against the counter. Logan pushed him aside, determined to stand on his own.

“I might have consumed too much Ramen.”

“Dude, you ate one bowl and like, two bites,” Virgil said in disbelief.

“It might be from Deceit’s mark on your soul,” Thomas mumbled.

Virgil frowned. “It’ll make him throw up?”

“No. Not directly. But it can make him feel sick and slightly dissociative, which can cause vomiting.”

“Well, shit,” Virgil said.

“You like that word, don’t you?” Roman asked.

Virgil flipped him off. “Get Logan to lay down. Thomas, I have a bucket under my bathroom sink. Get that for him.” Thomas nodded, walking off. “I can clean this up.” Virgil shot another grimace to the mess.

“Virgil, I will get it,” Logan said.

Virgil glared. “Like hell. Go lay down on the couch.” His expression softened and he gave a tiny smile. “At least you’re not lying to dad about being sick anymore.”

Logan let out a quiet laugh, which sent a stab of pain through his head. Roman helped lead him out of the kitchen; it took far more effort than it should have and by the time Logan had made it to the couch, he collapsed against it, wiping his sweaty hair from his face. Thomas walked in, holding the bucket, which he set beside the couch. Then, Thomas sat down right beside Logan and gave a nervous smile.

“I can try to get rid of the soul mark right now. But I’m warning you. It’ll hurt, no matter how much of my healing magic I use.”

“I can handle a little bit of pain,” Logan said.

Thomas quirked an eyebrow but nodded. “We should still get uhm… something, you know… in case, uh- Uhm. We don’t want Virgil’s neighbors knocking at the door.”

Logan frowned. “You think I am going to scream? Nonsense.”

Roman snorted. “Dude. When I came into the store, you were screaming so loudly it could’ve split my eardrums.”

“That is practically impossible,” Logan snapped. “And there is no possible way I was screaming… and if I was, not that loudly.”

“To be fair, someone trying to rip your soul from your body really _hurts_ ,” Thomas amended. “Especially when that someone was a soul-snake. And while this won’t be quite as bad, it’ll still hurt. Which is why I wanna be sure. Because I have to remove it partially again.” Thomas’ face was bright red as Logan stared, mouth falling open partially.

“You must attempt to remove it once again?”

“Not… not fully,” Thomas said. “Just enough so I can clean it.”

“ _Clean_ it?” Logan asked. “Are you aware of just how horrifying that sounds?”

“Yes,” Thomas said, picking nervously at the hem of his jeans. “But I have to do it, Logan, or…”

“Or Deceit gets you, eats your soul, and you die,” Roman said bluntly.

Silence. Then, “Fine,” Logan mumbled. “I’m sure Virgil has something you could use.”

Thomas nodded and rose. “I will go ask.” He bit his lip. “I’m really sorry, Logan. None of this should have happened to you.”

Logan took pity on Thomas. “It is not your fault. I am confident in that.”

Thomas offered a hesitant smile then said, “Take off your shirt,” and walked off into the kitchen with Virgil. Logan did as he was told then he and Roman waited in silence until Virgil and Thomas came back out, Thomas holding a dish rag. Virgil looked terrified. As soon as he and Logan met eyes, however, he gave a reassuring smile.

“It’s clean,” Virgil said. “Promise.”

Logan pretended to sigh sadly. “How am I to know if you are not lying?”

Virgil punched Logan lightly on the shoulder, crouching down and grasping Logan’s hand, giving it a tiny squeeze. “I don’t lie.”

“I know,” Logan said, arranging himself better so he was spread horizontally across the couch. Roman stood beside Thomas who crouched down, offering Logan the rag. Logan held it in his hands shakily, then in a blur of courage, brought it to his lips where he bit down on it.

“It’s going to hurt,” Thomas said. He looked pretty worse for wear- pale, sweaty, and shaky. “But I’ll do my best to ease it as much as I can.”

Logan nodded his head in acknowledgement. Virgil scooted out of the way, still holding onto Logan’s hand. Thomas placed his cold hands down on Logan’s ribs. He felt his body releasing its long-held tension. Soon, Logan was pliant and loose, eyes half-lidded. He didn’t feel tired- just healthy and relaxed and calm. Then, Thomas moved his hands up to Logan’s chest and pressed.

At first, it was painless; it felt as if Thomas was just pressing his fingertips along the edge of Logan’s breastbone. Then, it felt like someone was trying to slice open his chest with the handle end of a butter knife. Logan grit his teeth, trying to breathe through the pain, mouth going dry against the rag.

Then, the pain became agonizing. Thomas’ fingers were moving around inside of his chest and Logan felt pressure building all around his body- his head, his chest, and his limbs. He felt himself twitch slightly and Thomas made a soothing hum in his throat and Logan did his best to still. He could no longer feel Virgil’s hand.

“Logan,” Thomas’ voice came out from the pain-induced haze. “I’m gonna start drawing your soul out a little. This is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.”

Logan swallowed, wishing Thomas hadn’t told him or prepared him for it because he was tenser than ever, teeth grinding against the rag. He felt a hand touch his forehead, smoothing back his hair; he assumed it was Virgil, yet Virgil was still staring worriedly at him, clutching his hand. Logan decided not to dwell on it.

With a deep breath, Logan watched Thomas cup his hands from inside of Logan’s chest. Logan’s head slammed against the cushions of the couch at the pain that resulted, eyes squeezing shut, and throat letting out muffled whines that Logan would deny to his grave. Something was being pulled from him, something that didn’t quite hurt physically or mentally; it was a pain that Logan couldn’t understand or explain. But it hurt. Terribly. Tears streaked his face and from the vibrations Logan felt against the rag, he knew he was screaming.

He did his best to shut himself up but he just couldn’t; his body trembled and his throat went completely dry and pained from the cries. Logan tried to jerk up, to stop Thomas from whatever he was doing. He felt himself falling into a feverish sense of unawareness. He could barely hear Virgil telling him to lay the fuck back down. He didn’t hear Thomas trying to hush him or feel Roman grabbing at his arms and pinning them down against the couch.

Then, all at once, the pain began to ease. Logan felt himself lying back, body going slack. His jaw relaxed, dropping the now-damp rag from his mouth onto his chest. Thomas slowly removed his hands, looking pale and exhausted but also disappointed. Virgil’s hand was gripped painfully into his and Roman finally released Logan’s arms.

Logan immediately leaned over and threw up into the bucket. Virgil’s hand moved to Logan’s shoulder and then Roman handed over a glass of water, which Logan took a few tentative sips of. He set it aside on the coffee table and sat up.

“Thomas?” Logan croaked out worriedly just as Thomas rose from his spot on the couch, immediately crumbling to the ground, eyes fluttering shut.

“It’s okay; it’s okay!” Roman promptly soothed. He walked over to Thomas and gently lifted him up. Virgil let go of Logan’s shoulder, helping to place Thomas on Virgil black recliner.

“It took a lot of his magical energy,” Roman said. “He needs to recuperate.”

Virgil nodded, still frowning worriedly. He looked down to Logan. “What about him? Did he manage to… get it taken care of?”

Roman sighed. “It doesn’t appear so. Thomas didn’t look pleased.” Roman looked down to Logan. “You all right, Calculator Watch?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname and attempted to sit up, finding it surprisingly not too difficult to do.

“I am all right,” he said, voice hoarse.

“I didn’t know you had those pipes in you, Lo,” Virgil teased.

Logan smiled. “Neither did I.”

“Seriously though- you okay?”

Logan nodded; the three turned as Thomas groaned quietly and shifted around on the recliner. He blinked blearily around.

“Hey, dude,” Roman said. He walked over to the recliner, crouching down. “Need anything?”

Thomas pushed himself up, looking around the room at everyone staring expectantly at him. His cheeks tinted red. “No,” he said.

“What happened?” Virgil asked.

“His soul…” Thomas trailed off, frowning. “It was _fighting_ me. Deceit must have put a very powerful claim on it.”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked.

“Usually, when Deceit marks a soul, it’s merely a matter of my magic… undoing his magic. When he doesn’t feed on them, Deceit can corrupt and mark souls. I can heal them from that mark.” Thomas paused, making a gesture with his hands like he had in Logan’s chest; he cupped them together and scooped them up. “Logan’s soul refused to be drawn to me so I could wipe it of Deceit’s influence.”

“So… what does that mean?” Virgil asked.

“When a soul’s marked, the whole soul doesn’t get marked- it’s a portion of it that’s marked, the portion which can be influenced.”

“You’re telling me that a soul has different parts?”

Thomas sighed. “Like a brain, the soul is made up of a bunch of complex parts with different functions.”

“Buncha nerdy stuff,” Roman added. “What he’s basically saying is that Deceit’s managed to mark the entirety of Logan’s soul- not just a portion of it where Thomas can just go in and wipe it away.”

“Then what are we supposed to do about it?” Virgil snapped, voice rising. “Just let it go?”

“Of course not,” Thomas said, frowning. “I can still get rid of the mark on it; it’ll just be more difficult.”

“How so?” Logan asked.

“The soul naturally attaches itself to the presence of others. Especially family. So if I have someone of Logan’s family to reach in with me and hold the soul, I can remove the mark.”

“Well, I can do it,” Virgil said. “I’m his family.”

Thomas looked solemnly at them. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. The soul makes its more… permanent and firm attachments early on. The firmer and more permanent the attachment, the better chance I have of removing the mark from the soul.”

Logan felt himself go queasy; he was suspiciously starting to feel like he might vomit again. He had a feeling he knew what Thomas was implying and he did not like it one bit. Still yet, he found himself asking, “What do you mean?”

“To break the hold Deceit has on your soul, I have to have someone who is blood-related to you. Someone the soul would have made that permanent attachment to. Like… at birth.”

Logan’s stomach dropped and Virgil’s face fell. Then, Virgil’s voice rang loudly across the apartment in a firm shout, one finger shooting out in an accusatory manner.

“Absolutely fucking _not_. There’s no _fucking way_ ,” Virgil snapped. “There’s gotta be another way.”

“Maybe,” Thomas said quietly. “But it’s the best chance we have and I don’t want to put Logan’s soul under any unnecessary torture by going in over and over again.”

“His mother is insane,” Virgil yelled.

“Virgil-” Logan tried.

“She’s a fucking monster and I’m not letting-”

“Virgil-”

“It’s not good for him or _anyone_ to be anywhere near her!”

“Virgil!” Logan snapped. Virgil shut up, crossing his arms and leaned against the wall. Logan turned to Thomas. “Would it remove the mark on my soul?”

“I can never be sure,” Thomas admitted, “but as I said, it is the greatest chance that we have.”

“Then we will do it,” Logan said.

“How?” Virgil snapped.

“I know her current address,” Logan admitted.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “How?”

“She… emailed me two weeks ago.”

Virgil threw his hands up in the air. “And you decided not to fucking tell me?”

“Because I was aware that you would react in this way.”

“And what- it’s a bad thing that I care?” Virgil hissed.

“You know that is not what I mean,” Logan said.

“Hey,” Thomas said, stepping in between the two. “Listen. We can decide these things in the morning. Why don’t we all get some sleep and we can… figure things out tomorrow?”

Virgil and Logan stared at each other for a moment longer then finally, Virgil looked away. “Thomas, you can sleep in my room with me. Roman and Logan- fight for the couch.” Virgil walked off to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. The room fell into an awkward silence.

Finally, Thomas awkwardly smoothed his hands over his jeans and said, “I’m gonna uh… go.”

“Good night, Thomas,” Logan said. Thomas nodded, walking off. Logan sighed deeply.

“I will allow you to take the couch, Roman.”

Roman laughed. “You’ll allow me?”

“That is what I said, is it not?”

Roman shrugged. “S’pose so. Do I dare ask Virgil for some blankets?”

Logan shrugged. “It is likely not worth the trouble.”

Before the two could discuss the matter any further, Virgil came storming from his room, holding a stack of five blankets in his arms. He dropped them on the couch and shot Logan a look. The two gazed at each other until Logan finally nodded. Virgil sighed and offered a tiny smile.

“We’ll argue more in the morning. But. I love you, Logan.”

“Thank you,” Logan said. Roman raised an eyebrow as if startled by Logan’s words. Virgil merely smiled, nodded, and walked off to return to his room. Logan sighed deeply and grabbed three of the blankets from the couch. He spread one over the floor and then wrapped the other two over his shoulders before walking to the light switch and flicking it off. He removed his glasses and slipped his phone from his pocket, dropping them onto the coffee table that he bumped into on the way to his spot on the floor.

He heard Roman fumbling around with his blankets before he settled down into the couch. Logan squirmed until he was in a comfortable position, shivering when the blankets didn’t provide quite enough of the warmth he had hoped for.

“Logan?”

Logan sighed. “Yes?”

“You awake?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Quite clearly I am not.”

“Oh, sorry.” Then, “You jerk.”

Logan smiled. “What did you want?”

“I was wondering… what’s the big deal about your mom? Did she abandon you as a kid or something? That’s what Thomas’ dad did, you know.”

“Oftentimes I find myself wishing that she _had_ abandoned me,” Logan admitted quietly, a lump forming in his throat. It had been a long time since he had discussed this with anyone.

Roman gave a low whistle. “Geez. What happened then?” Logan hesitated then Roman quickly spoke up again, “You don’t have to tell me, of course. I was just… curious.”

“It is all right. Well. My mother… some would consider her abusive.”

“Some?” Roman asked.

“I suppose a correction is required. _Most_ would consider her abusive. She had never wanted children in the first place but she kept… me, despite her parents’ wishes for her to do otherwise. She always reminded me how lucky I was that she had gone through with her pregnancy. How lucky I was that she had not abandoned me. I often did not understand that mentality at all.” Logan paused. “I apologise. Do you want me to stop talking?”

Roman’s voice was low. “No. Not if you don’t wanna.”

Logan swallowed, carrying on, “She held a lot of anger towards me, as I was a very strong willed child. I did not like to obey. She confined me to my room quite often. She would yell and scream at me if I attempted to leave. As I grew older, she only became more temperamental. She often reminded me of the burden my existence was on her.”

“She sounds terrible,” Roman said.

“She had an excuse. I was an unbearable child at times, one she did not desire in the first place.”

“Still,” Roman said firmly, “it doesn’t make it right.”

“Perhaps not…” Logan trailed off. “Child Protective Services intervened when she pushed me down a flight of stairs and I fractured my skull at thirteen. She did not put up any bit of a fight towards keeping me. I was put into foster care then. I suppose one would say that it was for the better.”

“My moms would have a fit if they heard about someone treating their own kid like that,” Roman said. “My mama came from an abusive home and my mom lost two kids in a car crash, long before I was born. They don’t understand how a person can willingly abuse their kid.”

“I do not understand it either,” Logan said quietly.

“Guess it’s one of those things that shouldn’t be understandable, you know?”

“I suppose,” Logan agreed. “Your mothers sound very kind, by the way.”

Logan could hear the smile in Roman’s voice as he said, “They are. They’re the best.” Silence loomed over the two and Logan stared at the dark ceiling until Roman spoke up again. “Virgil’s just scared for you. That’s why he’s mad.”

“I know,” Logan said. “He often expresses his love in odd ways.”

“Yeah,” Roman said. “You think he’ll warm up to me?”

Logan chuckled. “With time.”

Roman huffed out a breath of relief. “Coolio.”

The two fell silent once again and Logan attempted to fall asleep. But when a few hours passed and Roman began snoring lightly, Logan knew it was not going to happen anytime soon. He reached over, picking his phone up. He unlocked it, connecting himself to Virgil’s Wi-Fi. For a while he scrolled through LinkedIn, confirming connections for a while until he grew bored and scrolled through Instagram. Eventually, he grew bored of that as well and pulled open his Hotmail account to find the email conversation between himself and his mother.

He knew he shouldn’t torture himself. But the temptation was too great and Logan tapped the thread open with his thumb, the screen reflecting in his glasses.

**Sender:** debra.utterbach87@gmail.com

**Recipient:** loganthephotographer@hotmail.com

**debra.utterbach87@gmail.com is responding to the following message:**

_Mother,_

_Hello. This is Logan, your son. I have acquired your email address from LinkedIn and I hope that you will not mind. I wished to reach out to you in the hopes that I might be able to share some news which might make you proud. I have been offered a job and I am moving with some financial assistance from my brother, Virgil, where I will begin working on photography commissions along with my office work._

_I have also moved into an apartment. It is quite nice. It is small but I do not have a roommate and it is fairly inexpensive so I am able to forgive the lack of space. There is not much that I need to store there anyway._

_I was hoping that you might like to meet at some point, considering you are still living where you once were. Just to discuss things and perhaps give me some closure. If not, I understand._

_Please understand that this email is neither a declaration of anger or forgiveness._

_A prompt reply would be appreciated._

_Kind regards,_

_Logan_.

_Logan,_

_Haven’t heard from you in a while. I am surprised you’ve become a photographer- you never struck me as that kind of a boy. But I am happy for you, still, I suppose. And congratulations on the new apartment. I recommend buying a lot of blankets! I remember my first apartment seemed very cold. I remember you always were a cold-blooded kid. That might help you adjust._

_I am not living there anymore. Too many bad memories. But I’ve moved here if you’re interested in seeing the place. It’s very cute! **[Address Attachment].** To be honest, I’d like to forget about our past entirely. You understand what I mean? After everything… it was just a bad time, for both of us. It might be best we don’t meet. For our own good. Your presence might upset me. I don’t want to backpedal on the progress I’ve made. I’ve settled down. It sounds like you have too. _

_Why open a big box of the past if we don’t have to?_

_Please don’t contact me again unless absolutely necessary. Let’s move on, Logan. It’ll be good for both of us._

_Sincerely,_

_Debra Utterbach_

Logan slowly lowered the phone, resting it against his chest. He blinked tiredly, trying to ward off the slew of emotions which had hit him the first time upon reading the email. Logan snorted in his sleep and Logan hurriedly flicked off the phone, carefully setting it back down on the coffee table. For a moment, he considered doing what he used to do as a young and scared thirteen-year-old and creep into Virgil’s room to listen to music on his brother’s iPod while Virgil rambled on about the meaning of the lyrics.

The two could sit up all night talking, listening to the soft music drifting through the earbuds, sitting close in Virgil’s room in the darkness. Then Patton would come in with a frown and tell them to go to sleep or they wouldn’t get pancakes in the morning, no matter how much they begged. The two would whine but eventually fall asleep, inspired by the idea of a pile of fresh pancakes waiting for them in the morning.

But Logan was an adult. So was Virgil. Adults didn’t… they didn’t need to rely on anyone else for things like comfort. So Logan settled himself down, closing his eyes, and fell asleep, his mother’s words echoing in his head the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this chapter was a… a lot. We’re gonna get more into the magic stuff soon. Some. I hope my world building makes an ounce of sense. I feel like people are gonna cry, “Plotholes!” because… welp. Idk. I just hope this is okay. (Also- I hope y’all aren’t disappointed that I’m likely not gonna be able to pump out many more 5k chapters because,,, this is literally the first time I’ve written a chapter this long lol. It’s a rare thing.)
> 
> More soul-snakes, Logan’s mom, some romantic tension, and Patton being a good Dad to come!
> 
> Feedback is always much appreciated.


	5. V. FALL

Logan awoke to the sound of a timer going off from the kitchen and someone scurrying around. The smell of fresh coffee wafted across the tiny apartment and Logan sat up, pushing aside his blankets. He fumbled for his phone and glanced at the time. _8:45 am._ He had slept in, it appeared.

“Morning,” Roman said from the couch, morning voice deep and groggy. Logan felt himself blushing more than he should have as he turned to see Roman still laying on the couch, eyes hazily focused on Logan.

“Good morning,” Logan managed to get out, just as Virgil walked in holding Logan’s coffee creamer in one hand and Logan’s NASA mug full of coffee, a spoon poking out of it, in the other. He set them down on the coffee table, gesturing to them awkwardly. Logan took it as it was- a peace offering.

“Sorry for yelling last night,” Virgil said, sitting down on the ground across from Logan. “I was just worried, you know? I just." Virgil scrubbed a hand over his face. “Your mom’s been the source of so much negativity in your life. And I don’t like that we have to rely on her to help save yours.”

“I understand,” Logan said quietly, reaching for the materials on the table and beginning to stir creamer into his coffee. “I do not like it either but I do not see any other viable solution at the moment. It appears to be the best course of action to take.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you contacted her?” Virgil asked.

Roman shifted on the couch, standing up and mumbled something about going to pee and walked away. Virgil and Logan watched him go then turned back to each other. Logan let out a heavy sigh.

“You would have talked me out of doing it. For my own good. And I just… I did not want to be proven wrong because I _knew_ I was wrong.”

Virgil’s gaze softened. “What happened then? Between the two of you? When you contacted her?”

Logan reached for his phone and pulled up his Hotmail, then handed it over to Virgil. He focused on stirring his coffee and tasting it, relishing in the burning sensation on his tongue. He could hear Virgil’s breathing getting heavy. Then, Virgil set the phone done and the two were silent for a long moment. Logan could hear Roman quietly singing to himself as he flushed the toilet.

“What a… bitch,” Virgil said. “Fucking asshole.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Patton would not appreciate that language.”

“I don’t give a shit. Jeez. What is that woman’s problem?” Virgil snapped.

“I do not know,” Logan said. “I suppose I could be considered one of them.”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t even go there.”

The two held each other’s gaze until Roman came back into the living room and sat down beside them. Virgil glared at him.

“The hell do you want?”

“Food,” Roman replied.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Ever had pancakes, Princey?”

“I have not, my emo delight.”

Virgil rolled his eyes again, standing up. “I’m gonna make pancakes then. Wake what’s-his-face up so he can help.”

“There’s no way you’ve forgotten his name already,” Roman said.

Virgil smirked. “Oh, I’ve remembered his. Just… yours… for the life of me, I can’t… Was it… Romano?”

Roman gasped. “You fiend!”

“Yeah, yeah. Go wake Thomas up, Romano.” Roman gasped again, hands splaying over his chest, but he did as he was told, running off to wake up Thomas.

Virgil sent Logan a look as Logan stood up himself. “He’s something else.”

“I agree,” Logan said, cheeks heating. Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Do you require my assistance in the kitchen?”

Virgil shook his head. “No. Best if you don’t help. Remember that one time you tried to make cupcakes?”

Logan blushed. “To be fair- who pulls the peel off of the buttermilk bottle?”

Virgil winked. “A-la, me. Come on. I can have you stir.”

Soon enough, with a lot of interruptions from Roman, Virgil and Logan had four plates stacked high with fluffy pancakes that almost made Logan drool. Virgil had really inherited his dad’s talent for cooking. Virgil went through the process of explaining to Roman how you put fruits and other toppings and syrup on the pancakes. The syrup part seemed to confuse Roman even more than anything else.

“Were you raised under a rock or something?” Virgil asked. “Who’s never heard of syrup?”

“A laboratory, actually. My mama and I both,” Roman said. “Not a rock.”

“Oh shit. Dude. I’m sorry.”

Roman flashed his usual big smile at Virgil, but his eyes looked suspiciously distant. “It’s all Gucci.”

After that interaction, when Roman asked if Virgil had an orange he could put on his pancakes, Virgil didn’t argue in the slightest, just sent Logan to work at peeling one. Finally, the four all sat around the coffee table with their plates and drinks and ate hungrily. Finally, Thomas was the one to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“So…” he trailed off. “What’s the plan?”

Logan paused, focusing down on poking his pancake. “I have my mother’s address. She’s quite a few hours away so the three of us should probably head there soon so we do not arrive too late.”

“Uhm. Last I checked, there are four people sitting here,” Virgil said.

Logan looked up. “I do not wish for you to be in danger, Virgil, and you’ll be at more of a risk if you come along.”

“He’s right,” Thomas said. “You’re safer here. As far as I know, Deceit knows nothing about you or this place.”

“So I should just sit here while all this shit is going on?” Virgil asked. “Heck no.”

“Virgil, be reasona-”

“Reasonable?” Virgil scoffed. “No thanks.” Roman and Thomas shared a look. Virgil sighed and shot Logan a meaningful look. “I’m not making you face her alone.”

Logan focused back down on his pancakes and finally gave the slightest nod of his head and took a bite, setting his fork down.

“We should pack some food and stuff,” Virgil said, “so we don’t get slowed down by having to stop anywhere.”

“Good idea,” Thomas said.

“And I can get you some new clothes,” Virgil said, looking to Logan. “You should also probably shower.”

Logan’s lips quirked. “Are you saying that I smell bad?”

“Your words, not mine.” Virgil turned to Thomas and Roman. “You guys can shower too if you’d like.”

“That would be delightful, thank you, Hot Topic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’ve heard of Hot Topic and yet you’ve never had Ramen or pancakes?”

Roman grinned. “Obviously.”

Virgil sighed. “I’m gonna do the dishes and then pack up some food. Logan, if you’re done, go ahead and shower. I’ll bring in some clothes from my room in a bit. You know where the towels are, right?”

Logan nodded, rising.

“Don’t have too much fun!” Roman said with a smile and a wink.

Logan raised his eyebrows as Virgil scowled and waved him off. Logan made his way into the little bathroom, grabbing towels from under the sink, then stripped down, and got into the shower. It felt good to feel like the stress and chaos were both flowing down the drain along with the water and dirt.

No more than ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door as Logan switched off the shower. Virgil’s voice called through the door, “Hey dude, can I come in?”

“You may,” Logan answered.

The door creaked open and footsteps sounded. “I’m setting some clothes on the sink for you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll wash these,” Virgil said and Logan heard him kneeling down to grab the dirty ones Logan had tossed on the floor. Then, silence fell over the bathroom but Logan didn’t hear Virgil leave. He frowned.

“Are you still in here?” he asked. He shivered, dragging his hands over his bare damp shoulders, covered in goosebumps.

“Mhm,” Virgil said. He sounded suspiciously choked up. “None of this feels real.”

“I know,” Logan murmured.

“That Roman dude is in my kitchen right now eating raw fucking Ramen.”

Logan chuckled, eyes burning. He blinked, a tear slipping free. Thank God Virgil couldn’t see him- he didn’t even know why he felt upset or why he felt like he was going to cry.

“It is all very strange, isn’t it?”

“It sure fucking is.” Virgil let out a loud breath.

“Virgil.”

“Hm?”

“You and Patton… you two are my true family. Not my mother. This whole thing does not change it.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you about my contact with my mother.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Lo,” Virgil said. He sighed. “You have the right to do things like that. I just… I overreacted a little.”

“You did not overreact. You just… reacted as any older brother would.”

Virgil laughed. “I’m gonna go throw these in the wash, dude.”

“Okay.” Logan waited patiently until Virgil had left and shut the door behind him before he pulled back the shower curtain and grabbed the towel to dry his hair. He eyed the clothes on the sink and sighed, a small smile poking at his lips.

Virgil had obviously tried his hardest to get clothes Logan would feel comfortable in but still yet, it was clear to see the clothes belonged to Virgil. There was a pair of black skinny jeans with small rips in the knees, a tight wrinkled dark purple long-sleeved shirt, and then a pair of athletic black socks.

Logan put the clothes on (struggling more than what should be considered appropriate when he tugged on the jeans), and gathered up his towel, then tossed it in the hamper in Virgil’s room. He made his way into the living room where Roman was sitting on the couch with a packet of Ramen he crunched n loudly. Thomas’ excited voice was chattering excitedly in the kitchen.

“-agree. One of the most underappreciated Disney movies of all time!”

“Agreed,” Virgil said. “People just can’t appreciate masterpieces.”

“What are we discussing?” Logan asked with a frown.

“Atlantis,” Thomas and Virgil said in unison.

Logan nodded in understanding, then leaned against the counter just as there was a loud knock at the door. Virgil startled, body immediately going stiff and breath quickening. Logan frowned, leaning forward.

“I’ll go see who it is,” Virgil said quietly, making his way to the door. Once there, Virgil peaked up to the tiny little square of glass on top.

“It’s just Nate,” Virgil whispered. Logan’s shoulders relaxed upon hearing the name of his brother’s friend. “I’ll get him to go away.” Virgil opened the door a crack.

“Heya, Virge.”

“Dude now’s not a great time.”

“Why not?” Nate asked.

“I uhm… sick.”

“Sick? You don’t look sick. You sure you’re not just trying to get out of class, man?”

“Positive.”

Logan raised his eyebrow as Nate pushed on the door a little. Nate had never been the invasive type. Thomas and Roman must have had suspicions of their own because they had both moved to the living room, standing up and were both frowning at the door.

“Lemme in.”

“Nate, what the hell?”

“Dude, just… I need a glass of water.”

“Leave me alone,” Virgil said, trying to push the door shut, Nate stopping it with his foot. Thomas’ eyes widened and he grabbed at Roman’s shoulder.

“It’s Deceit,” he hissed. “Get Logan out of here.”

Logan’s eyes blew wide as Roman tried to yank him to the bedroom. “No. I need to assist Virgil.”

“I’ve got him,” Thomas said. “But you need to get to your car. Right now. If Deceit sees you here, you’re dead.”

“How did he find us?” Logan hissed.

“Doesn’t matter. Go.”

This time, Logan obeyed, running into the bedroom. Roman locked it behind them. He heard Virgil politely trying to tell “Nate” to go away. Then something crashed and there was loud yelling. Logan desperately wanted to run to his brother’s aid but Roman had snatched his hand and was wrenching open the window and tearing out the screen.

“You have your phone?” Roman asked.

Logan nodded.

“Good.” Then, without another moment of hesitation, Roman shoved Logan out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for taking so freaking long to update this. Feedback would be wonderful. :)


	6. VI. LAND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the thing about falling out of a window that nobody tells you about: it only takes a couple of seconds and it _feels_ like a couple of seconds.

Here’s the thing about falling out of a window that nobody tells you about: it only takes a couple of seconds and it _feels_ like a couple of seconds. There was no time for Logan to think, for his life to flash before his eyes, or for him to even scream. Before Logan had even realised he was probably going to die, his left side smashed against the dirt and grass. It took all of Logan’s self-control to restrain a scream. Roman landed a second later beside him, having shifted into a small bird.

Roman shifted back in his human form and then crouched beside Logan, wrapping an arm around his waist, and hoisting him up.

“There had to have been an easier way to do that,” Logan said through gritted teeth.

“I would like to have seen you do better,” Roman said. Logan winced as he put weight onto his left foot and jerked to the side. Roman pressed Logan closer against his side. “Thomas will fix you right up.”

Logan sucked in a breath. “If they survived.”

“Dude, don’t think like that.” They kept walking, Logan mostly dragging his left leg behind him as they talked. “Thomas and Virgil will be fine.”

“I must consider the realistic possibility that they are not.” Tears burned at Logan’s eyes as Roman fished inside his pocket and withdrew the keys.

“They’re fine,” Roman said softly, unlocking the car and maneuvering Logan into the passenger seat. He then moved over to the driver’s seat and started the car, driving to the front.

They were quiet as they waited. One minute passed. Two. Three. Then, finally, the lobby doors flew open and Thomas and Virgil both ran out, Thomas in front. Thomas flung open the car door and leapt inside, followed by Virgil. As soon as Virgil slammed the door, Roman’s foot slammed against the gas and they went flying out into the main road.

“Does he know how to drive?” Virgil asked frantically. “I bet he doesn’t know how to drive!”

“Relax, Doom and Gloom. I can drive,” Roman said.

Logan leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. His head pounded, heartbeat roaring in his ears. The pain in his left side was so unbearable, it was almost all that he could focus on.

“What the fuck happened to Logan?” Virgil snapped, leaning forward.

“Oh.” Roman glanced in the rearview mirror. “We jumped out a window.”

“You _what_?” Virgil and Thomas shouted at the same time as Roman blew through a red light.

“Involuntarily,” Logan said. “He pushed me.”

“Roman!” Thomas scolded.

“He’s fine! He just needs you to heal him and he’ll be fine.”

Thomas scowled, then rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder. Logan felt the bones and muscle from his left side shift, then settle. His body involuntarily relaxed. The pain had greatly subsided but Thomas’s hand remained.

“You can’t go pushing people out of windows, Roman,” Thomas intoned.

“There was no other way to get out of there. I had no choice.”

“How would you like it if I shoved you out a window, Prince Dickface?” Virgil asked. Logan rolled his eyes.

“I’d love it. Provided it was to _save my life_.”

“Whatever.” Virgil leaned back against the seat, crossing his arms. “Where are we headed, anyway?”

“Right now we should focus on putting as much distance between us and Deceit as possible,” Thomas said. “But after a while, we should probably try to make our way to Logan’s mother.”

“You have her address, right?” Roman asked.

A moment of silence passed before Logan realised Roman was talking to him.

“Yes. I do.”

“How about you navigate to her house?”

Logan pulled out his phone and typed in the address. He could practically feel Virgil’s eyes on him from the backseat.

“From here, she’s five hours away,” Logan said.

Roman nodded. “Five hours. Let’s go.”

Logan pressed _begin route_.

|*|

Four and half hours later, Roman swung into a gas station and pulled up to a pump. Virgil was fast asleep in the backseat, head pressed against the window, while Thomas stared outside, apparently lost in thought.

“Thomas, I need the card,” Roman said. Thomas fished in his pocket for a moment then pulled out a debit card and handed it to Roman. Roman left the car, slamming the door behind him.

Thomas let out a long sigh. “I’m surprised we haven’t been pulled over. Roman was going ninety at one point.”

Logan snorted. “Perhaps there is some form of luck in our favour today.”

“Yeah.” Thomas sighed again.

Logan glanced back at him. “How did you two manage to escape from Deceit?” he asked.

A small smile crossed Thomas’s face. “Your brother hit him over the head with a coffeepot. I dunno if it knocked him out or not, but we didn’t stay to check.” Thomas glanced at Virgil. “He is braver than he looks.”

Logan laughed. “He is, for a man who is afraid of his own shadow.”

“Stop talking shit about me, Logan,” Virgil mumbled, blinking his eyes open, and voice deep with exhaustion.

“It is a compliment,” Logan assured.

Virgil just snorted and rolled around, closing his eyes once more.

“Your mother,” Thomas began. Logan tensed. “She is… not ideal?”

“No,” Logan said slowly. “She… is not.”

Thomas nodded. “I’m sorry, again, that you have to go through this. I know you’d probably rather forget about her.”

Logan swallowed. Before he could reply, the door swung open and Roman was dropping a sandwich and a bag of chips in Logan’s lap. Then, he tossed two sandwiches and two bags of chips into the backseat. Finally, he slid into the driver’s seat, and peeled back the wrapper of his own sandwich and laid down a bag full of sodas between himself and Logan.

Logan passed two sodas back to Thomas and Virgil, the latter grumbling softly and sitting up, stretching his legs. The four ate as Roman pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the main road.

They drove for another good half hour before Roman slowed down and pulled into a cul-de-sac with several nice little houses lined up. Roman finally pulled into one with the matching house number and Logan’s phone rang out, “Arrived at destination.”

The car was silent.

“All right. Let’s get this over with,” Virgil said, swinging open his door. The other three complied. Logan took the lead and Virgil went up beside him, grabbing his arm. Logan slowed down, turning to glance at Virgil.

“Please… for my sake… be polite,” Logan said, finding it surprisingly difficult to speak.

Virgil gave his arm a little squeeze then let go. “I’ll try.”

“Please, Virgil.”

“Fine.” Virgil sighed. “But let me call her an asshole a couple more times to get it out of my system.”

Logan smirked. “Go ahead.”

“Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole- total asshole.” Virgil took a deep breath. “All right, I’m good.”

Logan stopped at the door, head swimming so much he didn’t know if it was another trace influence of Deceit or just nerves. He took a deep breath and pressed onto the doorbell. A stretch of time that felt like a million years, but was only ten seconds at most, passed and the door swung open, revealing a face Logan had never forgotten.

His mother’s hair was beautiful, strawberry blonde curls pulled into a loose ponytail. She was wearing a pair of dark blue glasses, a grey polo, and a pair of skinny jeans. A permanent frown was pressed into her brow, and her lips were parted into a small “O.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Hello. I apologise for my unannounced arrival. It is… an emergency.”

His mom glanced over from Virgil to Roman to Thomas, then back to Logan. She pulled the door open another inch and stepped aside, smiling a tight and forced smile that made Logan’s stomach twist all the more.

“Come in.” The four walked in, all standing around awkwardly as she shut and re-locked the door. She turned back to them and forced another smile. “We can do this at the kitchen table, yes?”

“Uhm. Yes, ma’am,” Thomas said politely.

She smiled, a little less forced this time. “What a polite young man. I see you have made yourself some adequate company, at last, Logan.” She turned her gaze back to Thomas as if sharing a secret. “The kids he hung around with he was little weren’t exactly the best. They were always so mean to him.”

It shouldn’t have stung, but it did. Because it was true, sure. But his mother had no right to casually comment on the bullies who’d been small nuisances in his life compared to her, the biggest bully of them all. He still gritted his teeth and swallowed his anger down, desperate to reassure himself.

His mother wasn’t a bully; she was just… frustrated to deal with such an odd, strange, and unruly child like Logan.

With that thought, his anger evaporated into resignation and he followed his mother into the kitchen. They all sat at the table as his mom pulled out a pitcher of water, then a pitcher of lemonade, and set it in the middle of the table and got out five glasses. She set one down in front of each of them, then one in front of herself. She poured herself a glass of water then gestured for the others to do the same.

As Roman and Thomas poured themselves lemonade and Virgil poured himself and Logan water, his mother spoke again.

“So… you said this was an emergency, Logan?”

Logan worked through the glue in his throat and finally choked out, “Yes.” Everyone was staring at him, his mother’s disproving look the most burning of them all.

“And… this emergency is…?” she trailed off, looking expectantly at him.

Logan was grateful when Thomas took the lead. “Ma’am, this is going to be something understandably difficult to understand or believe. Do you know anything of magic?”

To Logan’s surprise, she said, “I do.”

Thomas’s face brightened. “Cool! Cool, cool. That makes things a little bit easier.” He leaned forward. “What do you know of soul-snakes?”

“I am only a little familiar with them. One of my ex-boyfriends was killed by one.” Logan startled, looking from Thomas’s sympathetic expression to his mother’s grim one.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

His mother gave a tight smile. “It was ages ago. What is this about?”

“I am a healer,” Thomas said. “My friend here,” he pointed to Roman, “is a shapeshifter. We specialize in protecting humans from uses of darker magic, like the soul-snakes. Your son was attacked by one and the soul-snake has a claim on his soul.”

Logan expected sympathy or maybe anger or even satisfaction. Instead, her face was devoid of emotion, blankly looking at Thomas as if he hadn’t said an abnormal thing at all. Virgil growled from beside him and Logan kicked him in the ankle.

“Ah,” his mother said. “And what am I to do about it?”

“I need someone who Logan’s soul has been connected with for a long time, such as from birth, to go in there with me and help remove the claim or mark on his soul. That would be you.”

“Ah. It appears after all these years, you still need me after all,” his mom said, looking over to him with a teasing smile on her lips. “You know how kids, as they get older, like to pretend their parents never existed.”

Virgil jerked up so fast, his chair swung back. Logan grabbed his wrist quickly before Virgil could say a word. With a deep breath, Virgil gave a smile that looked more painful than anything Logan had ever seen.

Through gritted teeth, Virgil asked, “Where is your bathroom?”

“Oh! It’s right down that hall,” she said, pointing. Virgil stormed off. She looked back to the three. “Does he have anger issues? You don’t want to be around people who have anger issues like that, Logan.”

Logan forced down a slew of bitter words and forced out, “He’s my brother.”

His mother raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Thomas looked between them awkwardly and slowly continued, “Would you be willing to help me with that… ma’am?”

“Of course. Anything for Logan,” she said. “Just tell me what to do.”

After Thomas had gotten a dishcloth from her, he guided her, Roman, and Logan into the living room and sat Logan down on the couch. He told Logan to take off his shirt again, which Logan did obediently. His mother frowned at the mangled scarring on Logan’s chest but said nothing.

Thomas was halfway through his explanation when Virgil came back, eyes red and raw. He half-ran half-walked over to where Logan was and sat protectively beside him, like a guard dog.

“I’ll guide your hands throughout the process,” Thomas said. “But you don’t have to worry, I’ll be doing most of the work and using my magic to fully remove the mark, okay?”

His mom nodded.

“Okay. Lay back, Logan,” Thomas said. Logan obeyed. Roman leaned down. His expression was grimmer and more serious than Logan had ever seen it. He tensed and Roman shot him a small, reassuring smile, then gently cupped his jaw. Logan opened his mouth and Roman placed the cloth there. Logan bit down on it, gazing up at the ceiling, trying to think of anything but the moment happening around him.

Thomas did the same things he had at Virgil’s apartment until Logan was completely relaxed and pliant. Then, Thomas’s and his mother’s hands reached in his chest.

At first, it was fine, just the same painful pressure from before as their hands moved around. Then, Thomas said, “I’m gonna start drawing out the soul.” The pain that followed was beyond compare.

It felt like someone had taken a lighter, ripped out his chest, then shoved it inside of him and allowed it to burn, lighting fire to all of his organs and muscles and bones. He was screaming through the cloth, jerking around frantically. All he knew was pain and that he needed to escape the pain.

Someone was shouting, then grabbing his arms. His body seized in their grip and he spat out the cloth. The pain was agonizing and all he could do was scream and yell inconsolably.

Then, the pain was gone all at once. He breathed heavily, body trembling. Thomas’s hands were out of his chest, instead gripping at his mother’s shoulders, who was staring at him with horror in her eyes. It reminded him of the same look she had when his head cracked against the bottom of the steps, terrified of her own ability to do harm. Thomas watched on looking helpless and exhausted.

Virgil was gripping at Logan’s hands, angry tears in his eyes as he glared viciously at Logan’s mother. Roman was above him, carefully smoothing back his hair and quietly humming.

Logan forced himself to sit up despite his trembling body. He swallowed, clearing his throat. “What… happened?”

“Your ah…” Thomas trailed off. He dropped his hands from his mom’s shoulders. “Your soul rejected her touch.”

“That means…?” Logan asked.

Thomas didn’t meet his eyes. “Something deep within you has severed the bond between you and her. Your soul doesn’t consider her family and won’t let her remove the claim. I’m sorry. It’s very rare but…” he trailed off again. “It happens.”

His mom’s face smoothed back into blank indifference and she said, “I think you all should leave.”

Horrified, Virgil whipped around and glared at her. “He needs to recover, asshole!”

Logan winced. So much for Virgil remaining polite.

“I must agree with Virgil,” Thomas said. “He really needs a moment to rest and-”

His mother was beginning to look angry. “I suggest you all leave before I call the police.”

“You let us in!” Virgil shouted.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said shortly. “Go.”

“He’s your _son_ ,” Roman said slowly. With a start, Logan realized those were the only words Roman had spoken to her.

She glared at Roman. “I want you. To leave. Now.”

“It is fine,” Logan said. He pushed himself up and stood, surprised at how sheer will alone allowed him to stand. “We will go.”

_Go to the door. It’s all you have to do. Make it outside and it’ll be fine. You’ll never have to see her again,_ he chanted in his head. Logan walked across the room, to the door and with trembling hands, wrenched it open. He heard footsteps falling behind him and he prayed it was Thomas, Roman, and Virgil, as he stepped outside.

One footstep stopped. “You,” he recognized Virgil’s voice, “are a horrible jackass of a mom and I hope you someday become just as hurt and miserable and you’ve made him.”

Logan heard Thomas gently tell Virgil to come on. The four piled into the car, this time Virgil taking the wheel, Thomas and Roman in the back. Virgil didn’t even hesitate to start the car and pull out of the driveway.

“Why did my soul reject her?” Logan asked quietly.

Thomas took a deep breath. “Sometimes, when someone is… hurt, the soul seeks to protect itself by shutting out the things which have hurt it before. Like your mom.”

Logan closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “What are we going to do now?” Quiet. “Thomas. Just tell me if I am a lost cause. I would prefer to know if I am going to die.”

Virgil flinched behind the wheel but said nothing.

“You’re not a lost cause, Logan. And we’re not going to let you just die without a fight,” Roman said. “There’s gotta be someone else out there.”

There was a long stretch of quiet before Thomas said, “Sometimes, the soul tries to build new connections. New people it considers safe and family, even without blood. Someone the soul makes that same parental connection to, even if it’s not from birth. It’s hard to sever then re-make that connection but… it happens. If you have someone like that, we have hope.”

Logan took a deep breath, already hating himself for suggesting it. “I… have an idea.”

“Patton,” Virgil breathed.

Grimly, Logan nodded. “Patton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for taking so freaking long (6 months!!!) to update this. I’m going to try to update a little more regularly now that I’m back into the flow. Feedback would be wonderful. :)


	7. VII. PUNCH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan wished it was appropriate to cover his ears; their conversation felt too private to listen in on. 
> 
> “It’s okay.” Virgil let out a deep sigh. “I wish it was easier… everything.”
> 
> “Me too,” Thomas said. “All I can do with my life is dedicate it to keeping Deceit away from people. And I fail, time and time again.” Tears shone in his eyes. “Maybe my death wouldn’t be so bad if it meant something would stop him.”

Logan had finally stopped trembling by the time Virgil was pulling into another gas station. The car had fallen silent after Logan and Virgil had brought up Patton. Roman and Thomas both seemed to understand that it was something personal that they shouldn’t comment on. So the silence wasn’t broken until Virgil opened his door.

“I’m gonna grab some food,” he said. “You might want to put in dad’s address.”

“I’m coming in with you.”

“We can too,” Roman said from the back.

So they all climbed out of the car and walked into the gas station. Logan felt disconnected from his body, almost, as he strayed away from the group and made his way into the section of alcohol in the back. His chest was absolutely aching, and no amount of massaging it or deep breathing was doing any good.

The ache in his chest spread throughout his body until it went all the way down to his legs. He needed to leave. Find someone. Things would be all better if he just started walking, out the door and into the street. He needed to find…

He needed to find Deceit. Deceit could help him.

Logan’s brow furrowed. No! Deceit couldn’t help him; Deceit wanted to kill him! What was he _thinking_? Still yet, he started walking, heavy feet slapping against the grimy tiles on the gas station floor. He couldn’t stop himself. Every time he tried, the ache in his chest grew harder to bear. He was walking, getting closer to the door-

Someone slammed into his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. Their touch snapped him out of his haze and he recognized Roman was the one touching him, guiding him down an aisle full of candy.

“Where did you think you were going, Specs?”

“I…” Logan’s mouth was dry, stuffed with glue and cotton. “I do not know. I felt like I was being drawn somewhere and I couldn’t control it. Or myself.”

“Deceit must be getting desperate, trying to draw you to him.” Roman squeezed Logan a little bit in his hold then let go. He forced a smile. “Try not to wander off again.”

Logan nodded. “I will try.”

“You look troubled,” Roman said slowly. “Is… something the matter?”

“No.” Logan frowned. “Well… that’s a lie. I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

“At my mother’s house, you were completely silent. Why?”

“Thomas is much better at masking his distaste for people than I am,” Roman said.

“You knew my mother for all of ten minutes and you formed a distaste for her in that short time?”

Roman’s face scrunched up, and he laughed. “No, you nerd. I developed a distaste for her the moment you spoke of her in your brother’s apartment.”

“Why does my opinion of her matter?”

Roman threw his hands up. “Because your opinion matters, Logan, and you seem like a decent guy. I dunno. What’s with the questions? Why’s it bothering you so much?”

“I do not… I don’t know. I am… processing things.”

Roman gave a sympathetic look. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Logan breathed deeply. “My mother developed a distaste towards me from the moment I was conceived. It is difficult for me to understand why other people do not develop that same distaste.”

Roman’s eyes were soft as he gently captured Logan’s wrist. “I haven’t known you for very long. But I know that you’re very… likeable. Infuriating. Frustrating. But very likeable, nonetheless. Thomas and I wouldn’t be so hell-bent on helping you if you were the scum of the earth. Your mother’s opinion of you doesn’t define everyone else’s.”

“You sound like Virgil.”

“The Emo and I agree on something then, it seems.”

“Tell me about your parents,” Logan blurted.

Roman started. “Why?”

“So I feel less foolish for confiding in you about mine so quickly.”

“Are you trying to guilt me into spilling my secrets?”

Logan flushed. “No. I apologise-”

“I was teasing,” Roman said with a fond smile. Quite suddenly, he linked his arm in Logan’s and they made their way through the chip aisle. “My mama’s a shapeshifter, while my mom’s human. People brought my mama and me into a laboratory when I was born after my dad turned us in to the Magical Welfare Committee. Shapeshifters are fairly rare creatures, but back then, they were beyond scarce, maybe fifty of us at most throughout North America. So my mama and I were their lab rats.”

Roman ran a hand over his arm that was linked into Logan’s. He looked quite unsteady, Logan thought. He found himself leaning in a little closer to Roman, hoping to help keep him upright.

“We left when I turned seventeen. A bill passed that banned facilities from withholding magical creatures without their consent, so long as the creatures had Cognitive Skills scores of over 50%. My mother and I took the test. We both passed,” Roman shrugged, “well, I barely passed, and she passed with flying colours. Then we could leave. A year later, my mama met my mom, and the rest is history.”

“I am sorry,” Logan said. “Being raised in a laboratory does not sound ideal.”

“It wasn’t.” Roman smiled something that looked forced. “But at least we can be sucky childhood buddies.”

“That is not the sort of buddies I would prefer to be. Besides, my childhood started looking up the day I was adopted. It wasn’t all bad.”

“But it still sticks with you,” Roman said. “Right? You’ll never forget those years of your life spent with someone who was supposed to love you but didn’t.”

Logan shuddered. “I would like to change the subject, please.”

“Of course.” Roman grabbed a bag of Sun Chips. “These are the best type of chips. Discuss.”

Logan let out a startled laugh. “I disagree. I prefer Kettle Chips.”

Roman gasped, drawing away from Logan. “Betrayal! One which I will never recover from. Woe be it all!”

“Woe be _what_?” Virgil asked, coming from around the corner.

“Your disgrace of a brother insulted Sun Chips.”

“I did not! I merely stated that-”

“Sun Chips are shit,” Virgil drawled. “Doritos are the way to go.”

“You,” Roman stuck out a finger, “are vile.”

Thomas turned into the aisle and rolled his eyes. “Roman, be kind.”

“These heathens are insulting Sun Chips! Sun Chips! The greatest chips of them all.”

Thomas rolled his eyes again. “Let’s hurry up so we can check out.”

They did, after practically having to drag Roman to the front. They checked out, filled up on gas, then started down the road once again. Ten minutes down the road, Roman mentioned the little incident in the gas station where Logan had almost walked off.

Thomas gazed worriedly at Logan. “He’s trying to draw you to him. He must be getting stronger. Or closer. I don’t know which one is worse.”

“What’re we gonna do?” Virgil asked tensely, hands gripping the steering wheel a little harder than what was necessary.

“Keep doing what we’re doing. Head to Patton’s house, hopefully remove the mark on Logan’s soul, then be done with it.”

“And you think Deceit’s gonna genuinely leave us alone after this?” Virgil snapped.

“Virgil,” Logan said warningly.

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for some fucking soul-snake to kill my brother.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “Soul-snakes will always be a threat to your kind, Virgil. So long as humans have souls, soul-snakes will come for you.”

“Why don’t you magic people just kill them all?” Virgil asked, voice increasing in volume and panic.

“It isn’t that simple!” Thomas snapped back. “Imagine killing every bear in the world just because some have killed humans.”

“That’s a shitty counterpoint and you know it,” Virgil said.

“Please desist,” Logan tried.

Thomas ignored him. “I know it is! But what would you have me to do, Virgil? I can only do so much. My magic doesn’t allow me to kill anything! I can’t do harm, only heal, so that’s what I do. Anything else is beyond me.”

“How about Roman? Your people as a whole! There’s gotta be some magic dude somewhere who can kill things like this so they’ll stop killing us!”

“You don’t understand,” Thomas said helplessly. “Our society is complicated and not like yours. We go by different rules, morals, and ethics.”

“So it’s ethical to you to let humans die just because we’re not like you?” Virgil snarled.

“No! That’s not- that’s not it at all.”

“You two, please,” Roman hissed. “Let’s not fight-”

Virgil ignored him entirely. “Then what is it?”

“The death of a soul-snake requires the death of a healer,” Thomas said, sounding more hopeless and resigned than angry. “You want to kill a soul-snake? You cut out the heart of a healer and you feed it to a soul-snake.” Thomas scowled. “Our hearts are poisonous to them because ours are the antithesis of theirs. An eye for an eye. Restoring balance or something. Trust me, Virgil, Roman here has tried every way of killing him in the book and nothing works. Nothing but what has been set in stone since the beginning of time.”

Virgil was quiet. Then, “I’m sorry.” Silence. “I really am, Thomas. I’m just… I’m scared.”

They had driven in silence for a good twenty minutes and Roman had fallen asleep against the window before Thomas finally said, “I’m sorry for snapping you, Virgil. I know you’re scared and you care about your brother.”

Logan wished it was appropriate to cover his ears; their conversation felt too private to listen in on.

“It’s okay.” Virgil let out a deep sigh. “I wish it was easier… everything.”

“Me too,” Thomas said. “All I can do with my life is dedicate it to keeping Deceit away from people. And I fail, time and time again.” Tears shone in his eyes. “Maybe my death wouldn’t be so bad if it meant something would stop him.”

“No,” Virgil said firmly. “What you do is commendable, dude. And Logan’s here, alive, and that matters a lot. Deceit’s the true evil here. Don’t blame yourself. Especially not because of me running my mouth.”

Thomas took a deep breath that sounded suspiciously shaky. “Thank you, Virgil.”

With that, the car was bathed in silence once more.

|*|

They pulled into Patton’s driveway, right beside his little grey car, when the sun was just peaking over the horizon. Tiredly, the four clambered out the car, stretching their tired limbs. Logan felt something within his chest twisting and aching, burning at his eyes. He kept his hand against his chest, gently massaging his hand over it, as he made his way up to the porch.

Everyone was silent as he rang the doorbell, going back a step and waiting. A couple of seconds later, the door opened and Patton was revealed in the doorway, wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and fuzzy cat pyjama pants. His glasses were askew on his face and his greying brown hair was hanging over into his eyes. His expression was one full of shock, bemusement, and worry.

“Logan…” Patton trailed off.

It felt, all at once, like the world around Logan was crashing down. A great big lump grew in his throat and his hands shook terribly at his side. He felt like the small frightened thirteen-year-old, freshly fostered, being introduced to the man who promised up and down that Logan could rely on him.

For once, Logan discarded his pride and ignored the voice inside of him hissing that he was a grown man who didn’t need to become so foolishly emotional. Ignoring it all, Logan stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Patton. And just as tightly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, Patton wrapped his own arms around Logan.

Logan’s breath shuddered. There was so much to explain, so much to apologise for. But for that moment, he would enjoy hugging the man he wouldn’t hesitate to call his family. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! ♥


	8. VIII. SLEEPLESS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You do not know me very well. We have only known each other for a couple of days. If you knew me better, you would recognize that I am not worth your compliments or praise. I am not worth the bare minimum.” Logan’s throat tightened. “I don’t deserve it.”  
> “What was it you were saying about having cognitive distortions? You deserve those things and more, Logan,” Roman said solemnly. “You deserve love and compliments and feeling… good. I know that much about you. And I’d like to stay around to learn more.”  
> Logan blamed it on his sleepiness, the fluttering he felt in his heart; he said, “Roman.”  
> “Hm?”  
> “I am going to do something foolish.”  
> “What’s that, Specs?” Roman asked, so softly that Logan almost didn’t hear him.  
> “I’m going to kiss you,” he said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is a fade-to-black scene with sexual implications at the end.

Patton didn’t comment much on the two random strangers behind Virgil and Logan; he merely shook their hands after they introduced themselves, made a pun about their arrival, then ordered Logan to come with him into the kitchen. Logan obeyed, following Patton into the kitchen like a prisoner would if they were being taken to receive their sentence.

 As soon as they reached the kitchen, Patton’s eyes filled with tears and his lower lip wobbled dangerously. Logan’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably and his chest ached more than ever.

“Logan… kiddo… you look awful.”

Logan swallowed. “I apologise.”

“No, no. Please don’t do that. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Patton’s eyes darted around Logan’s face, then to the hand Logan had firmly pressed against his chest. His eyes widened at the sight of the fading bruises there on Logan’s wrist. Patton sucked in a sharp breath. “Have you slept?”

“Not lately,” Logan admitted quietly.

“Are you safe?” Not able to bear the thought of lying to Patton, Logan shook his head. Patton’s hands raised to his mouth and he took a deep breath. “Those two men in there with Virgil… did they hurt you?”

“No, Patton,” Logan breathed. “Not them.” He forced a smile. “Do you think Virgil would let them remain alive if they did?”

Patton let out a sharp laugh, a tear tracing his cheek. “No. Of course not. Gosh, come here.” Patton opened his arms again. Logan found himself falling into them easily, letting Patton temporarily squeeze all the pain and fear away from him. They drew apart again and Patton wiped his tears away with the heels of his hands.

“I’m a mess, kiddo, I’m sorry. I’ve just missed you and then you show up so early, with Virgil, and you look so… sick. I’m sorry.”

“You are all right, Patton. I am just afraid I’ve gotten myself into some deep trouble.”

“Well, I’m here to help you, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

Logan nodded, then followed Patton as he made his way back into the living room. Roman and Thomas were sitting together awkwardly on the couch and Virgil stood in the middle of the room, pacing back and forth. He looked up to Patton and took in a sharp breath.

Patton crossed the room and engulfed Virgil in his arms. Virgil trembled and hugged tightly, breath hitching. Patton ran his hands over Virgil’s back soothingly, looking about to break down into another puddle of tears.

They broke apart after a couple more minutes, then Virgil and Patton both sat down on the couch opposite to the one where Roman and Thomas sat. Hesitantly, Logan sat down beside Roman.

“Mister Sanders-” Thomas began.

“You can call me Patton, kiddo.”

Thomas flushed. “Patton. I’m sorry-” He frowned as he stumbled over his words. Logan eyed him curiously. Thomas’s eyes were filling with tears. “Sir. I’m very sorry.”

“Thomas, it’s okay,” Roman said lowly, as Patton’s eyebrows kneaded together, eyes full of concern.

Patton laced his fingers together and leaned forward, going into what Virgil and Logan had long ago deemed “dad mode.”

“Hey. You haven’t done anything that warrants an apology. I’m not mad. I just wanna know what’s going on.”

Thomas nodded, resolutely wiping away his tears. “Have you ever heard of soul-snakes?”

Patton frowned. “You mean the mythical creatures from the fairy tales?”

Looking quite grim, Thomas nodded. “Yes. But they’re not mythical.”

Patton smiled hesitantly, looking back and forth between Virgil, Logan, and Thomas, as if someone would tell him it was a joke. No one did.

“What do you mean by that?” Patton asked.

Thomas swallowed. “I mean that soul-snakes are very real. I know it’s difficult to believe-”

“I believe you. I do.” Patton took a deep breath. “I always thought that, maybe, I was making things up. When I was ten, my friend and I saw one in a restaurant talking to one of our classmates. I swore I saw him shift in the bathrooms, into something completely unhuman… But my parents thought my imagination was running away from me.” Patton looked rather pale. “My classmate turned up dead the next day. I convinced myself it wasn’t real, that the events had nothing to do with each other…”

Patton’s jaw set. “Are you telling me what I saw was real?”

“I believe so,” Thomas said. He hesitated. “You know the nature of soul-snakes then?”

“Kind of.” Patton ran a hand over his arm self-consciously. “They kill people, right?”

“Not quite,” Roman said. “They feed off of the human soul. Which, yes, kills people. But it’s one of the worst ways to die.”

Logan shuddered and Patton’s eyes widened as if piecing things together in his head.

“Logan came into our gas station a couple of nights ago,” Thomas said. “He was attacked by a soul-snake. One of the more powerful ones, Deceit.”

Patton covered his mouth with a hand, lips wobbling. “No,” he whispered.

“Deceit marked his soul and Logan is in constant danger until I can remove that mark. I’m a healer. I can do it. I just need someone to help me- someone who Logan’s soul has created an attachment to. Preferably a strong attachment. This usually means a birth parent. I assumed- incorrectly- that it meant Logan’s mother.”

Patton’s stare went cold, teeth gritting. “You brought him to his _mother_?”

Thomas flinched.

“We thought it was the only way, dad,” Virgil said softly.

Patton’s stare remained cold and distant. “Go on.”

Thomas squirmed. “It didn’t work. Logan’s soul has completely rejected her as his mother or as a person of any positive significance to him. That leaves you as the only one left we can think of, who can help unmark his soul.”

“What happens if we can’t remove the mark?” Patton asked. “What then?”

Thomas flinched again, staring at his shoes. His hands were trembling. “…We’ll figure something out.”

Logan didn’t like the look of anger on Patton’s face directed at Thomas. Logan cleared his throat and carefully said, “Patton. Thomas and Roman have done everything they can to prevent harm from coming to me, even at the risk of their own safety.”

Patton nodded and slowly smiled, the look appearing tight and forced around the edges. But it was a smile, nonetheless. “And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.” Patton took a deep breath. “How do we do this?”

Before Thomas could speak, Roman took over, saying, “Everyone needs rest, especially Thomas. He needs sleep and to be well-rested before he tries to remove the mark.”

“I can do it now-”

“No, absolutely not,” Patton said. “You’re not doing anything to Logan when you’re exhausted and not performing as best as you can. You guys need to get some sleep first.” Patton’s genuine smile returned. “We don’t have a guest room, but you guys can room together or sleep on the sofa- whatever you want.”

“I’ll room with Logan,” Roman said. He immediately blushed when Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his legs over Logan and grinned. “To protect him, of course.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and Patton looked between the two carefully, before smiling again. “Okay. Do what works best. I’m gonna try to get some zzs myself. Goodnight, guys.” He stood up and eyed the four hesitantly, then headed out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Well, Thomas can room with me,” Virgil said. “You just gotta forgive the… edgy-ness.”

Roman laughed. “It can’t be any worse than your apartment.”

Virgil smirked. “Bet. C’mon, Thomas.” Virgil rose and Thomas followed him up the stairs and out of sight.

Roman looked to Logan. “You gonna show me your childhood bedroom?”

Logan sighed and stood up. “Follow me.”

Logan climbed the stairs, careful to not allow them to creak. He stopped at the top of the stairs and eyed the first room on the right with a nostalgic and quiet sigh. Carefully, he opened the door and stepped inside, flicking on the light. Roman followed shortly behind, closing the door behind him.

“You…” Roman sucked in a breath, eyes trailing over the shelves stocked with books that Logan spent years collecting. “You are such a nerd. Is that a microscope?” Roman surged forward, touching it with his fingers. Logan pulled him away.

“Yes, and I spent all of my Christmas money on it when I was sixteen, so please be careful.”

Roman smiled. “Of course.” His eyes trailed away, looking over the room. They settled on a framed photograph in the corner. “What’s that?” he asked.

Logan looked over to it and grimaced. He walked over, unhooked it from the wall, and gingerly handed it over to Roman. “It’s me and my mom. It was the only picture I kept of us. It’s uh… it’s a decent photograph.”

Roman turned it over, then handed it back to Logan. “You were a cute kid.”

Logan snorted. “An insufferable one too. I…” he trailed off and smiled. “Never mind. I am trying to remove myself from those sort of cognitive distortions.”

“That’s good,” Roman said quietly, watching Logan set the picture frame face down on his desk. “How many books would you estimate you’ve got?”

“At least one hundred. I have more under the bed.” Logan smiled, feeling a little spark of fire ignite in his chest. “I stole a few of them.”

“You _what_?” Roman asked, looking absolutely gleeful.

“There were a couple of students who weren’t pleasant to me in school. In retaliation, I stole their purchases from the Book Fair out of their lockers. It wasn’t kind of me, however… I don’t particularly regret it.”

“You’re full of surprises, Teach.”

Logan blinked. “I am not a teacher.”

Roman laughed. “You look like the type.”

Logan looked down at his ratty shirt, torn black skinny jeans, and sneakers, then raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you did before you were in Virgil’s clothes,” Roman corrected.

Logan opened his dresser drawer and tugged out a pair of blue sweatpants and a black shirt, tossing them to the bed.

“Did you need anything, Roman?” Logan asked. “I have a bunch of clothes and…” Logan’s eyes trailed over Roman’s body. “Well, they will be a little small. However, not too bad.”

“C’mon, man. I have like four inches on you at least.”

“You do not.”

“Do too.”

Logan threw a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt at Roman, trying not to blush or smile. “You are insufferable. Take these.”

Roman did, grinning slyly. He pulled off his shirt and when Logan realised he had been staring far too long at Roman’s bare chest, he jerked his head away, hiding his blush by tugging off his own shirt.

“Do you have any pizazz in your wardrobe at all?” Roman asked.

Logan’s hands shook for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint as he tugged on his pants. “Pizazz?”

“Some colour. Other than this dull nonsense.”

“I prefer to keep my wardrobe professional.”

“Even your sleepwear?”

“Even my sleepwear,” Logan said, turning around and immediately feeling his face heat. His shirt was… almost comically too small on Roman, tight and rising up enough to show the bottom of Roman’s stomach. The sweatpants fit like a pair of capris, revealing quite a bit of Roman’s ankles.

“At least four inches,” Roman said, looking quite smug.

“Keep it to yourself,” Logan mumbled, flicking off the light, then fumbling his way into bed. When Roman didn’t join him, he frowned. “Roman?”

“You don’t mind me… in bed. With uhm. You?”

“If you would prefer to sleep on the floor, that is fine. I merely presumed-”

Logan was interrupted by Roman crawling in beside him. Logan slid under the covers, leaned back against his pillow, and closed his eyes.

“You’re pretty darn brave, Logan,” Roman said, so quietly that his voice sounded almost distant.

“Brave?” Logan asked. His throat was tight.

“Yeah. Your whole life you’ve been that way, I think. I figured somebody ought to tell you.”

“I am not… _brave_.” Logan swallowed. “I am not… very commendable in general.”

The covers shifted as Roman rolled over. Logan could feel his breath against his lips.

“Yes, you are. You’re pretty badass.”

Logan snorted. “You are sorely mistaken, I-”

“Let me compliment you, Logan, please.”

Logan fell silent.

“I’ve never met a person like you in my life,” Roman said quietly.

“You do not know me very well. We have only known each other for a couple of days. If you knew me better, you would recognize that I am not worth your compliments or praise. I am not worth the bare minimum.” Logan’s throat tightened. “I don’t deserve it.”

“What was it you were saying about having cognitive distortions? You deserve those things and more, Logan,” Roman said solemnly. “You deserve love and compliments and feeling… good. I know that much about you. And I’d like to stay around to learn more.”

Logan blamed it on his sleepiness, the fluttering he felt in his heart; he said, “Roman.”

“Hm?”

“I am going to do something foolish.”

“What’s that, Specs?” Roman asked, so softly that Logan almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said softly.

“Okay,” Roman said, sounding quite breathless.

Logan didn’t have to fumble around much; he knew exactly where to lay his hand out in the darkness to land on Roman’s jaw. He leaned in close, pressing his lips to Roman’s. Roman kissed back, eagerly and passionately. Roman’s hand went up, cupping the back of his head, and Logan’s breath hitched as Roman spun him around, pressing him down on the bed.

They pulled away breathlessly, Roman leaning over Logan, a knee beside each of Logan’s hips. Logan could faintly see in the dark, a small smile on Roman’s face.

“You’re a good kisser,” Roman said.

Logan felt his face flush and he was grateful for the darkness surrounding them. “Ah. You are one as well.”

Roman laughed and leaned down, pressing a short kiss against Logan’s forehead, then flopped back down beside him, throwing an arm around Logan’s waist.

“You should sleep. I have a feeling you’re exhausted.”

“I am,” Logan admitted. “However, I do not know if I will be able to sleep. There is too much on my mind.”

Roman hummed thoughtfully. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Roman, you do not have a penny-”

“It’s an expression. Haven’t you heard of those?”

Logan shoved him, abashed. “Yes, of course. I am just not very good with them.”

“Well. I’m asking you to tell me what’s on your mind.”

Logan considered for a moment, keeping quiet. He was not sure if he could put his thoughts into words and even if he could, he wasn’t sure if they’d make sense. Roman waited patiently and finally, Logan took a breath and said, “The last thing I wanted was to drag Patton into this mess. Or Virgil. Or anyone.”

“I know. But you didn’t have any other choice.”

“I know.” Logan was quiet. “I am sorry for kissing you.”

“Why on earth would you be _sorry_? I liked it. Unless you didn’t like it, don’t apologise.”

“I liked it,” Logan said quietly.

“Good.”

Logan let the silence stretch a couple more minutes, before he randomly said, “I didn’t even realise I was gay.”

Roman laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So, I’m your sexual awakening then?”

Logan threw his hands over his face and turned away, cheeks heating in embarrassment as Roman dissolved into a fit of giggles. “No, you buffoon. I never took the time to consider I might be interested in anyone in… that way.”

“In what way?” Roman asked quietly. His voice was thick, deeper than usual, and almost breathless.

Logan turned over again, meeting Roman’s eyes, barely visible in the dark. “Romantically. Sexually.”

“You’re not roundabout on anything, are you?”

“I prefer to make all of my intentions and… _thoughts_ clear.”

“And what are they?”

Logan smiled, letting out a shaky breath. “I don’t trust my ability to survive for much longer. I am being hunted by a soul-snake who very likely cannot be killed. I do not know if Patton and Thomas will be able to remove the mark on my soul. I don’t know if I’ll live long enough to see another night.”

Roman leaned closer. “Logan-”

“And… despite that, right now, I am in bed with a man who I am undeniably attracted to and,” Logan’s hands drifted to the waistband of Roman’s pants, fumbling with the drawstrings, “I’d like to… spend my time wisely.”

Roman was quiet for a long moment. Logan began tugging the waistband down and Roman shuffled, kicking off his pants completely.

“I think we should spend it wisely too.” Roman’s hands were against Logan’s hips, tugging his shirt upward. Logan let him slip it off, tossing it at the end of the bed. “Plus, we-might-be-dead-by-tomorrow, last-hurrah sex? Hot. I’m into it.”

Logan laughed and Roman kissed him again. For a moment, nothing mattered to Logan but Roman and Roman’s hands trailing over Logan’s body in a way that made him feel a little crazy, a little drunk, and _very_ happy all the same.

Perhaps it was only a moment, but it was a wonderful moment indeed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao let's see how starting a new multi-chaptered fic works out.


End file.
